


Slayer, Las Vegas

by MarcusRowland



Series: Slayers CSI [4]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Gen, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-26
Updated: 2003-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcusRowland/pseuds/MarcusRowland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More deaths in Las Vegas, and the CSI team receive a call from Sunnydale...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a sequel to "Should Have Gone To Vegas..." and "Manhunters." which involve Angel, Riley Finn, and other characters from BtVS and Angel. It is set between Buffy Seasons 6 and 7, and contains spoilers for Buffy season 6 and my earlier stories.
> 
> All characters are the intellectual property of their respective creators, film companies, etc.; this story may not be sold or distributed on a profit-making basis.
> 
> I'm British, so's my spelling. Live with it.

The raid was timed to the second. Four police cars blocked the side doors to the building, while the SWAT team hit the main entrance. They found it unlocked and unguarded. The first body was a few yards inside the door. The second and third, on the stairs up to the studio they'd intended to raid. The rest were in the studio.

"There's another body over here, in the jacuzzi," said Nick Stokes. "Child, about seven."

"How many is that?" asked Sara Sidle.

"Twelve. Five adults, seven children, ages about five to nine."

"Same wounds?"

"Yeah. Punctures to the neck, extensive blood loss."

"Vampire."

"Certainly sounds like it."

"Call Grissom."

* * * * *

"I can't get Angel," said Gil Grissom. "I've tried three times now, every time someone different tells me that he's not currently available to handle cases."

"Did you explain it to them?" asked Catherine Willows.

"I don't know anything about Angel's associates, and none of them were voices I've heard before. I'll save that for a last resort."

"Finn?"

"Left a message, hope he responds."

"Last time he was quick. It's already five hours."

Catherine's pager beeped, and she picked up a phone and called the reception desk.

"Caller for you, said it was urgent but couldn't stay on line. Said it concerned a homicide case. She left a California number."

"Let me have it.... Okay, can you pin that down more closely than California... Thanks."

Catherine hung off, thought for a moment, then said "I think we may just have a lucky break."

"What sort of break?"

"When we first met Angel and Finn I began keeping notes on our contact with them. Partly out of curiosity, and partly because I was concerned about the irregularities of the cases that involved them. It was obvious that they had some history in common; most notably, that they had been romantically involved with the same woman. When Oz was here I learned a little more, and did some research. Oz was a student at UC Sunnydale, and had previously attended Sunnydale High School. Finn was a TA at UC Sunnydale from 1998 to 2000, a period when he was already apparently involved in covert operations. Angel first appeared in Los Angeles in 1999; I haven't been able to trace his earlier movements, but he arrived shortly after Oz's class graduated from high school. Oz also told me that he had been involved with a group of unofficial monster hunters."

"Your point?"

"The only obvious connection between Angel, Finn, and Oz is this coincidence of dates. It occurred to me that they would make sense if Angel was romantically involved with a student, or possibly a teacher, at Sunnydale High School, who later went on to UC Sunnydale and met Finn there. It would also make sense if she were one of these monster hunters."

"And that call was from Sunnydale?"

"Concerning a homicide investigation."

"Put your call on the speaker phone, I want to hear this."

"This is Catherine Willows at CSI Las Vegas returning your call."

"Just a second... Buffy! It's for you!..."

Catherine hastily covered the microphone and said "Oz mentioned someone whose name might have been Buffy."

"Hello. Buffy Summers here."

"Mrs. Summers, I'm Catherine Willows at CSI Las Vegas. You were trying to contact me."

"It's Miss, that was my sister. Okay, I hope you're the right Willows, I've spoken to three wrong ones so far."

"Would I be right in guessing that Daniel Osbourne gave you my name."

"Thank God. Yeah, Oz mentioned it, but I only remembered the Willows part cos' we have a friend called Willow. He called a few weeks ago, said Riley Finn had him working with you. Did that go okay?"

"We solved the case, and I think Oz was happy with the outcome."

"Great."

"What can I do for you, Miss Summers?"

"I got a FedEx package from Las Vegas an hour or so ago. Inside were some photos... Polaroid, I think... dead children, in some sort of film studio. Looked like a vampire attack. You know about them, right? And a card saying 'Come and join the party'."

"Have you handled them?"

"The photos... yeah, I guess so, and my sister and the FedEx guy touched the package."

"Before you do anything else please put everything back into the envelope, handling them only by the edges, and put the envelope in a larger envelope or a clean dry plastic bag."

"Just a sec... okay."

"Miss Summers, please contact your local police as soon as we finish this call. I'll arrange for them to collect the package from you and have it couriered here."

"The local police are kinda useless. It'd be better if I bought it myself."

"I don't understand."

"Look, there was an invitation in there. Someone wants me in Las Vegas, and they're killing children to make sure I take it seriously. And I'm guessing they'll kill more until I come."

"Why you, Miss Summers?"

"Because I'm the Slayer. The Vampire Slayer." Even over the phone Catherine thought she could hear the capitals.

"You're..."

"Ask Riley."

"I'll do that, if he ever picks up his voicemail."

"There's one thing, it's kinda awkward..."

"Yes?"

"I'm kinda broke, and I'm going to have to bring my sister with me, there's nobody else to look after her. Can you recommend somewhere cheap for us to stay?"

"I'm sure we can arrange something. How will you be travelling?"

"Road."

"Right, I'd better give you some directions."

"That'd help. One thing first... how long ago were they killed, and what have you done with the bodies?"

"About twelve hours. They're in the morgue awaiting post-mortem."

"This is vital. Get someone down there now, and put something made of wood through their hearts; a pencil ought to do it. Have somebody with a shotgun covering whoever does that; if the body moves shoot at the neck, you're aiming to sever the spine."

"Miss Summers..."

"Do it." There was urgent authority in her voice. "Call me back with the directions once you're sure that the morgue is secure."

* * * * *

"Buffy called you?" asked Riley Finn. The line crackled, and Grissom suspected a long-distance link.

"Yes. Someone apparently wants to involve her in one of our cases. Several deaths, a vampire attack, apparently committed to get her attention."

"If she's willing to help you, go for it. Just be prepared to stay out of her way if she has to fight something."

"What makes her so special?"

"She's the Slayer."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It's some sort of mystic destiny - a champion against the monsters. There's always been one, since the dawn of recorded history. Always a girl, usually in her teens. She gets superhuman strength, speed, and reflexes, incredibly rapid healing, a sixth sense that detects vampires and demons, and occasional flashes of precognition. Oh, and an average life expectancy of two to three years once she's stuck with the job. Buffy's been the Slayer more than seven years. She's good, probably the best there's ever been."

"How old is she?"

"Twenty-two."

"And she kills vampires?" asked Grissom disbelievingly.

"She averages two or three a night."

"I'll look forward to meeting her."

"Okay. I wish I could be there to help, but we're in hostile terrain a couple of hundred clicks from our insertion point, and we've got a mission to finish." There was a distant sound, a deep 'boom' followed by machine-gun fire. "Okay, I think things are getting busy. Tell Buffy that Sam and I say 'Hi', we'll call her when we're back in the USA." There was a click and the line went dead.

"Okay..." said Catherine. "So... we're expecting Xena."


	2. Chapter 2

"Your visitors have arrived," said the intercom, and Catherine went down to the lobby to meet them. She looked around; a few civilians leafing through magazines, nobody who looked remotely like the warrior she was expecting. "So where are they?" she asked the desk clerk.

"Over there," he said, pointing to a table where two girls - no, a girl and a woman in her twenties - were reading magazines, "the blonde chick in the red leather trousers."

"There has to be a mistake," thought Catherine, saying "Summers?"

"Yeah, they're both called Summers."

"Right."

"Not what you expected, huh?" said the brown-haired kid as Catherine neared their table.

"Dawn..." said the blonde warningly. Catherine recognised their voices. "Hi. I'm Buffy Sunmers, this is my sister Dawn. You must be Catherine Willows."

"Um.. yes, I'm Willows."

"Don't worry, I'm used to people being surprised. You were expecting someone like Power Girl, weren't you?"

"Actually I though Xena."

"Okay, well I guess I look a little like Gabrielle, so we're half-way there."

"Just don't ask her to sing or recite poetry..." said Dawn

"Do you have the packet?" asked Catherine.

Buffy reached into a large leather bag and pulled out a dry-cleaning bag, secured with a wire twist. Catherine noticed metal gleaming in the bag. Swords.

"I'll just label this and have it sent to the lab." She suited word to deed, and waited while a messenger came to fetch the pack. "Later we'll have to get your fingerprints, to eliminate you from our enquiries."

"You may find they're the only prints there, vampires don't usually leave them."

"I know, but Polaroid film has a soft surface when it's developing, prints can sometimes be left in it. If you'd like to follow me..."

Buffy picked up the bag, and another like it, while Dawn carried a small suitcase.

"Would you like a hand with one of those?" asked Catherine.

"Don't think so, but thanks for asking."

"You couldn't lift them," said Dawn, "Buffy never heard of packing light."

"Well, I do like to travel well-prepared."

"I keep telling you two axes are plenty."

"So, both these bags contain weapons?" asked Catherine.

"Yeah. That's why we had to travel by road. Try going through airport security with this stuff and there's going to be problems."

They reached the lift; Catherine noticed that it lurched downwards slightly as Buffy stepped aboard. They were the only occupants, but the "load limit" light lit for a second, blinking out as Buffy moved to the middle, putting the bags down with muffled thuds.

"Do you want Dawn to wait somewhere while we're talking?"

"No. There are reasons... good reasons... why she needs to be involved."

"My boss isn't going to be happy."

"Don't worry, I'll persuade him."

* * * * *

"Buffy, Dawn, this is Gil Grissom, he runs the department. Buffy Summers, Dawn Summers."

"Miss Summers, I'm pleased to meet you. Would your sister like to wait in the recreation room?"

"No, I think she'd better stay here," Dawn said, completely deadpan.

"Dawn will be participating," said Buffy, "judging by previous experience there's a good chance that this whole thing was a plan to separate us so that she can be kidnapped and used to pressure me. Vampires tend to be a little unimaginative. She's also probably the best person in this building for supernatural research, and we'll need that."

"I see. Miss Summers, please don't feel offended, but we didn't actually ask for your help. Perhaps you could explain why we need you."

"Riley Finn explained some of it, I'm sure. Briefly, I've been fighting vampires and other monsters for more than seven years, and I'm very good at it. I know how to find these things, I know how to fight them, and I can usually do it without getting hurt. If police try it on their own they're going to get themselves killed. I don't usually work with the police, Sunnydale has possibly the worst police force in the USA, but from what Oz told me you're a little better at handling this stuff."

"That's all very well, but we have the law to consider; our job isn't to play judge, jury, and executioner, our job is to find the perpetrator and bring him to trial. We aren't vigilantes. Did Oz explain what happened when he was here?"

"No, last I heard he was still working on it."

"He led us to the killers. We arrested them, but we had problems with the evidence and they were to be released on bail. Oz knew that we would have to publicise the existence of werewolves to prove our case; he found that unacceptable, so arranged for them to be killed."

"Oh. Poor Oz, he must have hated having to do that."

"No, Miss Summers, I think he enjoyed it."

"You're wrong. Oz is very good at hiding his feelings."

"Oz thought through and carried out what I can only describe as a flawless and completely unprovable multiple murder, in front of numerous witnesses. I don't want to see anything like that happen in this case."

"Okay... I can see your point, I guess. All I can say is that unless something is done these murders will probably continue. These things are worse than any werewolf; vampires kill intelligently and sadistically. Would I be right to guess that the death toll already exceeds the werewolf case?"

"Yes, at least for this state."

"That's one night, I'd guess from no more than one or two vampires. And if they want to they can kill themselves an army to help them. It can expand as fast as a disease, and deadlier than any plague. Usually they try to stay out of sight, and have more sense than to alert people like this, but you've got the equivalent of a vampire terrorist on your hands, I think, and one that wants me in the game. If it doesn't get what it wants I think it'll stage some more demonstrations. I need to be out on the streets by nightfall, making my presence felt. Once they know I'm here they'll probably switch to attacking me, and that's a whole different ballgame."

While she was talking Jim Brass appeared in the doorway. "Miss Summers, I'm Captain Brass. Welcome to Las Vegas. Gil, the governor has just been talking to me. Apparently this isn't the first time that Nevada has needed the help of a Slayer. The previous governor concerned laid down some guidelines for future emergencies, our current governor has decided to follow them. The directive is to treat this as a major terrorist incident. Under state law this involves the use of all necessary force to bring the threat to an end. Miss Summers is regarded as the necessary force."

"Under normal circumstances I'd be tempted to offer the governor my resignation," said Grissom, "But I have a feeling he may have a point. Miss Summers, can I at least assume that you will do your best to minimise collateral damage and civilian casualties?"

"I'll try."

"Very well, let's get to work. I should warn you now that some of the details are unpleasant," said Grissom. "Are you really sure your sister should be here?"

"Mister Grissom, I've been doing this for seven years now, and Dawn has been caught in the crossfire more times than I can remember. She's seen the aftermath of vampire attacks, she's killed a few herself. Don't show her those photographs or the bodies, apart from that she'll be fine."

"Nevertheless..."

"She knows what she's talking about," said Dawn, "I won't freak out. Barf, maybe."

"Very well."

"So, d'you have any suspects?" asked Buffy.

"Given our rather limited experience of vampires, I suppose I would have to say only one. Angel, who appears to have dropped out of sight from Los Angeles at the moment."

"No, not a chance. Angel, as Angel, would never hurt an innocent, especially a child. Angelus, the monster he used to be, would have been more... artistic."

"I don't understand."

"Angelus was an artist. He made sadistic murder into an art-form. In these pictures, there's nothing that looks like art. You've got a group of bodies, they're just lying around on the floor in... what is that place anyway? A film studio?"

"We raided it on an anonymous tip a few hours after the murders. It was a studio for child pornography, we'd been looking for it for some time."

"Ugh. Well, anyway, the place looks to have good lighting, and it wasn't used. Some of the bodies have hair covering their faces, some are in kinda ugly positions. And the pictures are badly framed, a little out of focus, and taken with a Polaroid. Angelus would have posed them, sketched them on paper, probably used their blood for ink, and if he'd taken a photo at all it would have been perfectly framed and focused, and printed up as an eight by ten glossy."

"But Angelus was last active in the late nineteenth century. Couldn't he have changed?"

"No, he.." she seemed to catch her thoughts for a moment then said "No, there's something about vamps, they just don't change something that works for them, even over centuries. On the phone you said that none of the bodies were vamps, right?"

"No," said Grissom. "They were just dead, as far as we can tell. Thanks again for suggesting that, I can see we're going to have to make it standard procedure if there's another case like this."

"More evidence that it wasn't Angelus, he was notorious for sending vamp children back to their families."

"But Angel does seem to have disappeared," commented Grissom.

"A year or so ago he and his friends vanished off the face of the earth - literally. They were transported to another dimension. Wouldn't surprise me if he's gone back there for a vacation. There's something weird about the place, Angel can walk around in daylight, and Cordy, a friend who works for him, got made their princess. Which is truly bizarre if you know Cordy."

"I think I heard her on the phone once," said Catherine, "the woman whose date was interrupted by a werewolf?"

"Yeah, that's Cordy," said Buffy, grinning at a memory.

"Well, eliminating Angel, we're short of suspects," said Grissom.

"Okay, since those pictures were sent to me I have to assume that it's a vampire I've met, or might know of. I didn't recognise the writing on the card or the mailer, so that doesn't help. Dawn did some research on the way here, but we haven't had a chance to talk it over yet. Dawn..."

"Well, number one on the list is a guy called Marcus. He's a real creepo, about two thousand years old, a torturer who likes harming children. But I don't think you ever met him."

"No. Angel killed him a couple of years ago."

"Are you sure?" asked Grissom.

"Oz and Cordy saw it," said Buffy, "Doyle too. Impaled on a stake in daylight. That's good enough for me."

"Rats." said Dawn. "We've got to get Internet access in the car, books just don't cut it. Okay, next up is Harmony. She's stupid enough to think you'd fall for a trick like this, and children are about her speed."

"Says the girl who invited her into our house. No, I'd love another crack at her, but there are problems. First, she's kind of squeamish for a vampire, I think she'd regard the whole kiddy deal as kind of icky. Second, I'm pretty sure she's hiding in Mexico. Third, she'd never think of FedEx, she'd phone to gloat."

"Okay, can't argue with that."

"Do you have a picture?" asked Catherine.

"Sure, she's in my high school yearbook, got turned during graduation."

"During?" she said disbelievingly.

"It was kind of a traumatic ceremony, got attacked by vamps and the Mayor turned into a giant snake-demon. He was an immortal wizard, he'd been planning it for more than a century. Sixteen dead, and the school burned down."

"Is that sort of thing normal for Sunnydale?" asked Grissom.

"Oh yeah," said Buffy and Dawn, almost in chorus.

"Sunnydale was built on the Hellmouth," said Buffy. "A place where mystic energies are strong. Disneyland for monsters."

"I read Sunnydale's statistics for murder and other violent deaths when I was researching the university a couple of weeks ago," commented Catherine. "I think you just explained them."

"Next I had Angelus," said Dawn,"But I guess you've already touched base on him. Moving on, we have Count Dracula."

"Dawn, he's dead. I killed him, remember."

"Everybody's killed Dracula, he's notorious for it. Van Helsing killed Dracula, and he was a total wacko. But Dracula keeps coming back from the dead."

"Well, if he can come back from being staked three times in ten minutes I suppose it's possible."

"You killed Dracula? " said Catherine, "I thought he was a myth."

"Everyone does," said Buffy, "smartest thing he ever did was talking to Stoker. All the other vamps hate him for it, he did reveal quite a lot about how to kill them, but it meant that even I thought he was a myth until I met him. He's really old, he's got the hypnotism stunt down cold, he's about the only vamp that can really change shape, and he's very difficult to kill. But I don't think children are his style, he's more into seducing people into becoming willing victims, and I'm as sure as I can be that he's dead."

"If you're wrong?" asked Grissom.

"Is there a castle anywhere around here that recently got a new owner? Or someone just built one? Look for something like that, Dracula tends to stick out if you know what to look for. But I don't have photos. He's handsome, in a sort of 'Interview With The Vampire' way. Got a bite mark if that'll help, you could maybe compare sizes. Got one for Angel too."

"For Angel? Not Angelus?" asked Catherine.

"No. A few days before graduation, the Mayor tried to distract us by having Angel poisoned, with a special venom that could only be cured by drinking the blood of a Slayer. I made him do it..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," said Catherine, "But all of this is so strange to us."

"Finally, and I think most likely," continued Dawn. "Drusilla."

"Could be," said Buffy.

"Who's Drusilla?" asked Catherine.

"Angelus' finest creation," said Buffy, "sired some time in the nineteenth century. She was a psychic about to become a novice nun. Angelus murdered her family and drove her totally insane, then turned her into a vampire. She's mad, strong even for a vampire, totally unpredictable, knows how to hypnotise people, and kills for the sake of killing. And she does kill children. Likes to play with her food. I've come up against her three or four times, never managed to kill her."

"Here's a picture," said Dawn, "It's kind of old though."

"Victorian," said Grissom. "Does she still look like this?"

"Oh yeah," said Buffy, "Vamps don't change much, except that they sometimes get ugly when they're older. Hair's a little different though. Oh, she's about my height and she has an English accent, sings kind of nonsense songs, and often carries a doll."

"Is she rational enough to take photos and post them to you?" asked Catherine.

"It's possible," said Buffy, "and she was always good at recruiting minions to help her. Okay, there's one more Dawn missed."

"Did not."

"Spike.

"No, Buffy," said Dawn, a note of protest in her voice.

"Who's Spike?" asked Catherine.

"A vampire sired by Drusilla," said Buffy. "He was captured by Riley's commandos about two and a half years ago, they had a chip put into his brain that stopped him hurting people. It seemed to change him... he didn't have a soul, but he gradually started to help us fight the other monsters. He saved our lives a lot of times, helped look after Dawn while I was... out of action... for a while. Eventually I let myself... forget what he is. A soulless creature powered by a demon. The problem is that at the end the chip in his head wasn't stopping him from hurting me. I don't think he wanted to, but he could. The theory is that I'm abnormal enough that it didn't think I was human, but it may have been running out of power. He dropped out of sight a while ago, nobody knows where he is."

"But he started to have a conscience, Buffy," said Dawn "and he was always good to me once he'd had the chip a while."

"Maybe. All I know is that if the chip is gone he has the potential to be as bad as Angelus, he was nearly as vicious before they caught him. About all I can say in his favour is that he wasn't known for killing children. I doubt it is him, but we can't rule him out. If you're going to help me you have to be prepared to look at all the possibilities, not just the ones you like."

"Yeah... I guess."

"Do you have a picture?" asked Grissom.

"Sure," said Buffy "It won't be him... I hope. I think he really did have something approaching a conscience. But we have to consider the possibility."

"How would you rank them in order of liklihood?" asked Catherine.

"I'd say Drusilla first, then maybe Harmony, the rest somewhere behind," said Buffy.

"Drusilla, Dracula, Harmony, Angel, Spike," said Dawn.

"So what now?" asked Grissom.

"Well, first of all you want our fingerprints, I think. Then Dawn stays here and makes sure that you're up to speed on vampires, while I hit town and make my presence felt for a couple of hours. Then I'll pick her up and we'll check in at the hotel. Are your guys still working at the studio?"

"Yes, we probably have another day's work to do there."

"Get them out before sunset - I make it about another hour, is that right? I'll be going in a little later, I'll try not to disturb things but if my guess is right the vamps will expect me to go there. They'll probably try to set some sort of lame trap."

"And that doesn't... worry you?"

"Nah, used to it. Besides," She reached into one of her bags and took out a bundle of wooden stakes, some bottles of holy water, a silver crucifix and a crossbow, "I'm not easy to trap."


	3. Chapter 3

Greg Sanders never liked cases involving children. From the photos this one was worse than most, and for once he was glad he hadn't been near the crime scene. What he had to do right now was strictly routine; check a bunch of photos and a mailer for prints, handwriting, and anything else that might be a clue to the sender. Just concentrate on the technology, and forget what the photos actually showed. He started the recorder as he set to work, with the photographs in a glove box to avoid contamination.

"Okay, let's see now. All of the pictures are the same size and shape, some sort of instant format. Could be Polaroid or Fuji, my bet would be Polaroid. Which is confirmed by the trademark on the back. Let's see, any batch number? Type number?" he punched the dimensions and numbers into a database of film sizes. "Here we are. Old Polaroid SX70 format. Still a lot of cameras around using it. Any distinctive marks from the camera mechanism? Mmm..." He shone a halogen light across the surface of one of the pictures, eventually spotting a slightly raised line in the plastic towards one edge. Measured its position. Found the same mark on the other prints. "Okay, slight notch in the top pressure roller, position nineteen point five millimetres from left edge of photo, width zero point three millimetres. Corresponding ridges in the under-surface of each print, most noticable in the foil capsule, caused by a similar notch, my guess would be it was caused by a trapped piece of grit. It's on all of them, so damaged prior to these... let's see, twelve photos... that's a pack and a half. Wonder what's on the other four..."

"Keep it down a little," said Nick Stokes, at the next bench, examining the card, "or I'll start giving you a running commentary on the chromatography I'm going to do on this ink."

"You'd get bored before I do."

Catherine came in with two sets of fingerprints. "Summers, Buffy. Adressee of the package and opened it. Her prints are probably on all of the photos and the card. Summers, Dawn. Handled the package, says she didn't see the contents, but she's a teenager and I'm willing to bet she took a look if she got a chance. Probably regretted it if she did."

"From California? Hell of a way to come to give us a few prints."

"You'll be meeting them later. They're going to brief us on vampires."

"Friends of Angel?"

"Yes and no... They're more in Riley's line of work. Vampire hunters. Except they call it vampire slayer. She's a vampire slayer."

"You're kidding, right? You've got The Slayer here?" said Nick.

"Nick, you've been spending way too much time on that Demons Demons Demons web site."

"We've had a vampire, two werewolves and some sort of demon through here in the last year or so; I think someone needs to get up to speed. And if you spend any time researching this stuff you find out about The Slayer; most of the rest of it is really ugly, a story about mystically-selected girls with super-powers that fight evil tends to stick in the mind."

"So does what Riley told us about their average life expectancy."

"Slayer? Life expectancy?" asked Greg.

"They're girls, they're strong and fast, they fight monsters, they die young, usually violently. Any questions?"

"Is she hot?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," said Catherine, handing him the prints and walking out.

"Yeah, I'll bet she's hot."

About an hour later Grissom came by with a teenager wearing a visitor's badge; both men overheard a few words as they passed the lab: "...and make sure the sewer access is too small for vampires..."

When they were gone, Nick said "I know the web site said The Slayer was young, but that's ridiculous."

"Catherine said the death rate was high."

"Damn... that poor kid."

* * * * *

Sara Sidle needed to do at least another hour's work at the crime scene, Grissom's message came while he was lifting faint footprints from the tiles around the jacuzzi, a delicate job that just couldn't be left at a moment's notice.

"Warrick, you head back, I've just got a few more to get here. Find out what Grissom wants, and if it's important call me."

Warrick Brown was just about finished with fingerprints on the cameras and lights. "Okay, but if you're late for an important briefing don't blame me." He shouldered his camera bag and left.

Sara was good at this. The trick was to find the print using a halogen lamp, cover it with a sheet of specially prepared black aluminised mylar, and zap it with a few thousand volts of static electricity. Then you lifted the sheet off and hopefully the particles of dust and dirt that made the print had jumped to it, if the damned equipment hadn't gone wrong. Sandwiched in plastic, the print stood out clearly on the black background and could be examined properly back at the lab. So far she'd mostly found the marks left by paramedics, plus the bare feet of several children. Then the high-voltage power pack had died.

Twenty minutes with her tools and it was working again. Since she was using the light to find the prints it took a while for her to notice that it was getting dark, and that she was alone in a building that had recently been the scene of a vampire attack.

"Okay... Not such a clever place to be..." she thought, then she heard a woman say "Where is everyone?"

Sara said "In here."

The door opened, and the most beautiful woman she'd seen in her life came in, wearing a red silk dress. She seemed to be about thirty, and had light brown hair and green eyes.

"This is a crime scene," said Sara, "what's your business here?"

"We're waiting," she said, in a voice with some indefinable accent. Another woman came in, followed by a third. All three looked very similar, and they were dressed almost identically. Sisters?

"Waiting for what?"

"The Slayer."

"What's that? The murderer? Coming back to the scene of the crime?"

"Don't be silly," said another woman. "Why would we do that?"

"Why would we... oh shit." Their faces seemed to shift, becoming ridged, and their eyes glowed yellow. Their mouths morphed into fangs, and all three began to advance on her..

Sara thought fast, said "take a look at this," and switched the halogen light back on. All three hesitated, shaded their eyes with their hands, and came on. Sara backed away, desperately looking for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon. She was still looking when she caught her heel on the edge of the jacuzzi and fell backwards into it, dropping the light as she fell. All three crowded forwards, spreading out around the edges of the tub.

"Come out, woman," said the first vampire. "This can be... pleasant... if you want it to be. If you come out now. You know you want to..." There was something odd about her eyes, and she was swaying from side to side, in a way that reminded her of a snake. She had a feeling that it was only the cold water and the fear that were keeping her from obeying.

"Afraid of a little water?" All three vampires swung round to look at the door. So did Sara. A blonde woman, short and pretty, in leather pants and a tank top, holding a wicked-looking crossbow. "Hi. Looking for me?"

"Slayer! We shall have our revenge!" said one of the vampires.

The blonde said "Why do you guys always say that?" and fired; one of the vampires caught the bolt a few inches from her chest, and hissed with rage. The others leaped the jacuzzi and joined her in advancing on the blonde, who held the crossbow up, revealing a silver crucifix fastened to the wood. They backed away, snarling.

The blonde reached into a pocket and came out with a fragile-looking bottle, marked as holy water. All three vampires leaped back, leaving the jacuzzi clear. "Quick," said the blonde, "get over here and out. I can't hold them for long."

Sara didn't need telling twice. In seconds she was on the stairs and looking for something, anything, that she could use as a weapon. Behind her she could hear the noise of breaking glass. There was a mop and bucket on the landing below, the mop had a wooden handle. She broke the handle across her knee and ran back, hearing something clang in the studio above.

"Who are you guys anyway?" shouted the blonde, swinging a sword at one of the vampires. The vampire dodged it, ran for one of the camera tripods, and advanced on the blonde, swinging the tripid like an awkward flail. She parried it with her sword, slicing one of the legs from the tripod. Sara slipped in behind the blonde and held up the pieces of broom as a crucifix. The vampires began to back away again, then seemed to reach a decision. Suddenly all three were gone, morphing into bats which fluttered up, circling to gain height, and flew out through an open window.

"What the hell was that?" asked Sara, panting and trying to shake off some of the water.

"Vampires. Weird, they can't usually do that. Wonder where the hell they came from, and what they wanted with me. You one of Grissom's people?"

"Yeah..."

"What part of 'get out of the building an hour before nightfall' didn't you understand?"

"Got a little behind."

"Would have got a little dead if I hadn't showed up."

"Thanks. Who are you, anyway?"

"Sorry. Buffy, Buffy Summers. I'm the Vampire Slayer."

"Sara Sidle. The what? Vampire Slayer?"

"Don't you guys have phones? Look, have you got a car handy? I left mine at your offices."

* * * * *

"You are without a doubt the worse driver I ever met," said Sara as she squelched into CSI headquarters.

"Okay, so I'm not used to city traffic. You're in no state to drive, you're shaking like a leaf."

"I'm cold, I'm wet, and I've just had the shock of my life. What did you expect?"

"Get some dry clothes and a cup of hot chocolate. With the little marshmallows if they have them. Always worked for me."

"We have coffee, tea, coke and mineral water. Chocolate I somehow doubt."

"Never mind, you get changed, I'll find a kettle. I think I have some packs in my bag. I need to check up on my sister anyway, by now she probably has your boss stringing up garlic at all the windows."

"Does it help?"

"Nope. Handy if you like Italian though."

* * * * *

Buffy found Dawn and Grissom in the conference room, where Grissom was helping her to set up a presentation on vampires.

"Find anything?"

"Well, this building has better security than some. Strong doors, the sewers are pipes rather than tunnels, and nobody here seems to be a vampire already, which is a definite plus. Trouble is it's a public building, nothing to keep vampires out apart from the physical barriers. Same for the offices."

"What?" said Grissom, "When Angel was here he didn't come into my office until he was invited, I thought that meant he couldn't."

"No, he was probably just being polite," said Buffy.

"They're only stopped from entering homes," said Dawn, "and that's only so long as nobody who lives there invites them in. Once they have an invitation they can just walk in, unless someone does a ritual to uninvite them."

"Can the ritual be done on a public building?" asked Grissom.

"Not a chance," said Buffy. "Maybe if someone lives in part of it, permanently, that might be secured, but not just office space or public areas."

"Damn. Okay, we'll just have to try to find a way to spot them at the entrances. Two cameras, maybe, covering the same area but one reflected in a mirror."

"That's the least of our problems."

"Why?"

"Because I just ran into the vampires. Three of them."

"Did you know them, Buffy," asked Dawn.

"No, but I think I know of them. I owe you an apology, it looks like Dracula's back for another round."


	4. Chapter 4

"Dracula?" asked Dawn, "Are you sure?"

"Well, I didn't see the guy himself, only the brides. Three vamps, they turned into bats."

"Brides?" asked Grissom.

"Dracula was a great one for his home comforts, which included his brides. Three of them, all vampires, all beautiful. Can't vouch for that myself, I only saw their game faces, but Sara may be able to say more."

"Sara? Sara Sidle?"

"Yeah. Didn't get the message about clearing out of the studio. They were trying to hypnotise her when I got there."

"Is she all right?"

"Wet and annoyed, she jumped in the jacuzzi to get away from them. I guess they didn't want to ruin their dresses following her."

"Fell in," said Sara from the doorway. "I tripped on the edge and fell in." She was wearing a grey tracksuit with the Las Vegas Police Department logo, and carrying two mugs of steaming chocolate. She gave one to Buffy, saying "I was wrong, the cafeteria did have some. Probably about five years old, but what the heck. No marshmallows though."

"Just as well, I forgot to look for it. Sara, this is my sister Dawn. Dawn, Sara Sidle."

"Getting to water was probably the best thing you could have done," said Dawn.

"Why's that, Dawn?" asked Buffy.

"There's a lot of legends about Dracula, and some of it is really strange stuff. We know he can change into a bat or a wolf or a cloud of mist, which means that he can get in and out of this building any time he wants to. But he has some odd weaknesses too. According to Stoker's book he couldn't sleep unless he had earth from his grave, and he couldn't cross running water. He must have sired the brides, they have at least one of his powers, so they might have the same weaknesses."

"But they leaped across the jacuzzi," said Sara.

"Well yeah, but maybe they couldn't get into it."

"It wasn't actually running." said Buffy.

"If Sara was splashing about a lot..." said Dawn "I know, I'm reaching here, but they could have easily pulled her out if they'd gone into the water. Has to be some reason why they didn't."

"We need more information on this. Riley and Giles met them, maybe we should contact them."

"I think Finn might be busy," said Grissom. "When he called me earlier he was in the middle of some sort of firefight. Reminds me, he said to say that he and Sam say 'Hi'. Sorry I didn't mention it earlier."

"Oh... Well, Mr. and Mrs. Rambo can handle that, I guess, if he could take time out for a phone call. But I'd better not disturb them. Giles, maybe. What's the time in Britain?"

"About four in the morning," said Grissom, running a world clock program on his PDA.

"Probably not a good idea to disturb him then, he's an old guy and got hurt a few weeks ago, he needs his rest. If I call him around midnight or one he ought to be up."

"Would he possibly be the source of some documents we received in the werewolf case? Someone Oz contacted in Britain?"

"Probably," said Buffy, "Giles has some very unusual information sources. Why?"

"The documents he got us were useful... but we couldn't have used them in court, there was nothing to show how they were acquired, and no proof of their authenticity."

"That's never been a high priority for his sources. I'll be honest, if this does turn out to be Dracula you'll never get it to court; it's going to be a fight to the death, one way or another."

"I appreciate that's probable," said Grissom, "but we might find a way to capture him. If so, we need grounds to hold him. In the werewolf case we might have had a better case if we had a legitimate source for the documents he sent; maybe Oz wouldn't have done what he did if he'd seen a reasonable chance of a successful trial. I'm worried that we might paint ourselves into a corner where we catch him but have to release him. Dracula may be a vampire, but I'd guess he and his brides still have the protection of civil rights."

"I guess... let's put it this way; if Giles comes up with anything later than the nineteenth century I'll be surprised, Dracula was always good at covering his tracks. But if he gets lucky I'll ask him to make sure that everything is legit. Okay?"

"I suppose so. We'd better get ready for our meeting, I want you both to meet everyone here, and make sure that you're up to speed on what we've found and vice versa."

"Let me just go and wash up. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Don't miss that stuff in your hair," said Dawn.

Buffy grabbed her purse and hurried out.

"What stuff?" asked Grissom curiously. "I didn't notice anything."

"Oh... well... nothing, really, but she panics so beautifully if she thinks it's a mess."

"That's evil!" said Sara with a grin.

"You should have seen her when she was wearing it long."

* * * * * *

"So there's this kid and you say she's about fifteen and she fights vampires?" asked Warrick sceptically.

"We saw her a couple of hours ago," said Greg. "Fifteen or sixteen, tops."

"See this web site?" said Nick, pointing at the page describing the Slayer. "One girl in every generation with the strength to fight the vampires... it's her. Come on, we'll be late for the meeting."

"Yeah, but I can find you a web site that says that the Teletubbies and Harry Potter are satanic, or that Santa Claus is real," said Greg as they entered the conference room.

"Santa Claus is real," said Dawn as they entered, "but he wasn't as nice as the legends make out. He was a demon that climbed down chimneys to eat the children. I'm pretty sure that one of the earlier Slayers killed him, but the records are a little sketchy."

"Thanks for shattering my illusions," said Sara.

"I'd give you the lowdown on the Easter Bunny, but my source is a little biased on that one - she had rabbit phobia and freaked out whenever she talked about it."

Warrick looked at her for a second then said "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yeah... the more you get into this stuff, the more you realise that there's some truth in every legend. Santa Claus is typical, you have a pretty ugly truth then someone dresses it up in a story to make it less frightening."

Catherine came in with Captain Brass while they were talking and sat listening.

"So... Bigfoot?" said Nick.

"Were-bears. Like werewolves but bigger. Fortunately they're timid."

"Alien abduction?"

"Not sure on that one, but it's a lot like the stories of people taken away to fairyland. Time passes differently, memories they can't make sense of, that sort of thing.."

"So what really happens?"

"Fairies. They live in another dimension, like to use humans as servants, keep them for a few months then wipe their memories and send them home. Not usually much harm done, and they generally cure any illnesses so that they have healthy servants. It isn't really a matter for the Slayer."

"Weird. Thanks."

"Of course it could be aliens that happen to do things in the same way..."

"Right..."

"...Or I could have made that one up because I have absolutely no idea."

"So, what's it like fighting monsters?" asked Greg, after a short pause.

"Kinda gross, mostly. There's all this icky stuff that comes out of demons when you cut them, and vampires turn into dust which really messes up your sinuses and your hair. And don't get me started on mud monsters..."

"Dawn," interrupted Grissom, "your sister's back. Perhaps we'd better start."

Dawn took a seat, while Greg, Nick, and Warrick checked out the newcomer.

"We'll begin with you, Miss Summers, since you have some information on the nature of our current problem. Miss Summers, Greg Sanders, Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown. You've already met Sara, Catherine, and Captain Brass, of course. Everyone, this is Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer."

"Okay. Right." Buffy moved to the head of the table, looking slightly embarrassed. "Call me Buffy. Now, I wish I could be giving you good news, but it isn't. First, we don't have one vampire to deal with; there are three of them. I don't know their names, but they're usually referred to as the 'Brides of Dracula'. They're usually associated with the Count, he wasn't around tonight which means he's either letting them do the work or out of the picture. Since I killed him a couple of years ago I'd guess they've gone into business on their own account. Second, it looks like they have some of the same powers that Dracula has, which are different to normal vampires. How many of you have met a vampire before today?"

All of them, with the exception of Warrick and Sara.

"Angel, right? Okay, Angel is a typical vampire, except that he has a soul and has spent years developing his combat skills. Even without the skills he can run as fast as a car, jump twenty or thirty feet straight up, and bench press a small car. He has reflexes to match, and can catch a thrown knife or a crossbow bolt if he sees it coming. He can see in the dark, and all of his other senses are much better than humans. That's normal for a reasonably experienced vampire. You may not have seen him do all that, but believe me, he can. Some of them can also hypnotise people. What vampires can't usually do is the horror movie stuff; turning into bats or clouds of smoke and so on. The really bad news is that Dracula could do all of that..."

Buffy spent the next five minutes describing Dracula's strengths and weaknesses, ending "...so that's what we know about Dracula. Assuming that he made the brides, they may be able to do some or all of the same things. Sara was attacked at the studio an hour or so ago, and both of us saw them turn into bats, so they obviously have that power."

"I think they were trying to hypnotise me," said Sara, "but the cold water stopped it from working. If you hadn't arrived they probably would have had me."

"What Dracula liked to do was find someone in a position to spy on his target and hypnotise them, like Renfield in the Stoker book. He puts them in what they used to call thrall - I'm sure there's some fancy psychological term for it. Then the guy in thrall would report back, help to set up traps and so on. I think that's what they planned for you, if I hadn't interrupted. They'll probably go after someone else now. When Dracula came after me he managed to put me and one of my friends into thrall. It stopped me from telling anyone that he had bitten me, and made me go to meet him, my friend was completely under his control and became his spy. Had him eating bugs, just like Renfield. I think I'm immune to it now, trouble is there's no way I can give anyone else that immunity. And I doubt that there's any way to keep Dracula or his brides out of this building; even a bat could probably find a way in, if they can do the cloud of mist trick they'd just come in through the ventilation system. Mister Grissom, you suggested a way to make a vampire detector using your security cameras, I think you'd better try to make it work."

"Certainly," said Grissom, "I think I can handle most of it using web cameras and the computer network, if the department will let me spend a few hundred dollars on cameras and some other components."

"Let me have the receipts," said Brass, "I'll get it out of the anti-terrorism budget."

"What about our homes?" asked Catherine.

"They can't come in unless they're invited," said Buffy, "but you want to be really careful answering the door. If they're as good as Dracula they can just stand on the doorstep and put you in thrall, then get you to invite them in. We think Dracula got into our house that way, our mother was usually much more careful."

"I think we all have some sort of security system, if only a door viewer. We've all seen what happens to people who are careless. We'll just have to be alert."

"Buffy," said Dawn, leafing through a notebook, "You've been saying you killed Dracula two years ago."

"Yeah?"

"It is, almost to the day. The second anniversary is in two days."

"Okay... That probably means that they are planning some sort of revenge for that day - that, or they plan to bring him back to life. For that I'd guess they'd need my blood, it's usually blood. Or my entire body, of course."

"You don't seem too worried about it," said Catherine.

"Been there too many times before. All sorts of magical high-jinks need the blood of a Slayer."

"Why this year?" asked Grissom, "Why not on the first anniversary?"

"This time last year I was dead and buried."

"You were... dead?" asked Grissom.

"Welcome to the exciting world of the supernatural. I'm twenty-one and I've died twice so far, the first time it just needed CPR, the second time I was dead and buried for three months. My friends used some really powerful magic to bring me back to life, but it was a couple of weeks after the anniversary."

"But you're not a vampire or a zombie or anything like that?" asked Nick.

"No, just human, more or less."

"Do you remember anything..." began Nick, then noticed Dawn shaking her head in an urgent "NO!".

"It's okay, Dawnie," said Buffy softly, "The best answer I can give you is that I'm pretty sure that I was in Heaven, or something that felt like it. I felt peaceful, loved, happy, but I can't really remember anything more specific than that. Coming back to life... to my life, fighting demons... was horrible. It took me a long time to deal. But I'm okay with it now, I just can't really answer questions, 'cos I don't have the answers."

"Do you have any ideas on what they could be planning, other than a ritual?" asked Catherine, after a pause.

"Going by the horror movies I'd guess they've got some of his dust, maybe his coffin and grave earth, and plan to mix them with my blood. There's probably a whole lot of chanting involved, pentagrams, the usual sort of thing. The nearest thing I've heard to it was a ritual some evil lawyers used in LA a year or so ago, bought a vampire Angel had killed to life. Not just as a vampire, as a living breathing human. That used a lot of really powerful magic, I'd guess getting Dracula back as a vampire would be easier. In a few hours I'll phone someone in Britain who may be able to tell us more."

"The other obvious question," said Grissom, "is 'why here'? Why in Las Vegas? Until about a year ago we never saw any supernatural activity." Brass stirred in his seat and seemed about to comment, but said nothing. "Since then we've met Angel, Riley and his monster hunters, a wizard, Oz and other werewolves, now you and the brides of Dracula. I'm worried that it's going to become more of a problem as time goes by. Can you explain it?"

"So far as the Brides are concerned, I think it's simply that they came here after I killed Dracula, planning to return to get me the following year. It's far enough away that I'd be unlikely to run into them by chance, near enough that they can get to Sunnydale overnight and keep an eye on the place relatively easily. And I get an odd feeling here, the sort of feeling I get when someone is doing magic, I think it comes from all the gambling. Supernatural creatures can draw on that power, use it to make their lives easier."

"Angel said something about that," said Grissom, "I thought he was exaggerating."

"No. It's real, but you have to have a sort of sixth sense to spot it. I'd guess it's the same for most of these guys - they feel reasonably safe here, far enough from the Hellmouth to be out of my way, and out of the way of anything really nasty that happens around Sunnydale, but close enough that they can drop by easily if they have to, and magic to tap into if they want it. Remember, you're only seeing the bad side of things; there are probably plenty of others around that are harmless or even good, they just haven't made themselves obvious. I haven't had a chance to make my presence felt yet, tap into any information that's available. I'll probably take a look around a few bars and clubs later tonight, I don't need much sleep."

"Jim," said Grissom, "I think you were going to say something."

"Well, it's just that this isn't the first time this has happened. I was a patrolman the last time around, we had a vampire kill five over a two-week period. It was hushed up to avoid a panic."

"What happened?"

"Someone close to the governor knew how to contact the Slayer they had then, think she came in from New York. Stayed two nights, killed the vampire, left again. Never met her, never even learned her name, just heard rumours."

"About the way it usually works," said Buffy. "Incidentally, I hope you all appreciate that I really don't want any publicity. It'd make it impossible for me to do my job."

"Don't worry," said Brass, "Nobody is going to be talking, Grissom and I will take care of that."

"Fine."

"Can you suggest anything we should be looking for at the crime scene?" asked Grissom.

"Nothing beyond the obvious. We need to know where they're based, I think we've already guessed most of the rest."

"Agreed," said Grissom. "Nick?"

"The mailer was prepaid, with a premium for maximum speed," said Nick, "posted in a FedEx pickup box three blocks from the studio no later than eight this morning. You can buy them at any FedEx outlet. This one seems to have been sold by a branch of Mailboxes Etc., but we won't know which branch or when it was sold until tomorrow at the earliest. The ink is standard black Pentel, there are at least seven sets of prints on the mailer including both of you, I'd guess the rest are FedEx people but of course I'll check. There was some grass pollen inside the mailer, I'd say a fairly typical mix for almost anywhere in the Las Vegas area."

"Greg?"

"I have Buffy's fingerprints on most of the pictures and the card. There are smudges on all of the pictures; from what we know I'd say a vampire, since there were no oils left. One picture has a fairly good imprint fingerprint, I'd say left thumb, where someone touched the surface before it had hardened. It doesn't show up on any of the databases though."

"Keep checking. Warrick?"

"Same here, bunch of smudges plus prints matching some of the bodies. About all I can tell you is that there don't seem to be any human fingerprints I can't account for."

"Sara?"

"Well, assuming that the vamps didn't trash them after I left, I had some reasonably good footprint traces. They might have left more, of course. I'd prefer not to go back there tonight though."

"Agreed. Tomorrow, though, we hit that building with everything we've got."

"Including me," said Buffy, "it's just possible that they've gone to ground there, and you really don't want to disturb a sleeping vampire."

"Anything else?" asked Grissom. "No? Get a good night's sleep, everyone, we'll meet here at nine tomorrow."

Buffy said "One thing... Dawn and I left Sunnydale in a hurry, and we still haven't checked into a hotel. If you remember, we need somewhere fairly cheap."

Catherine looked embarassed. "I was going to offer you my spare room, but I have a young daughter, and I don't really want to make my house a target..."

"That's cool. Any suggestions then?"

"You could stay with me," said Sara. "I've got the room, and after this evening I'd really appreciate the company. I don't like the idea that they might want to.. er... thrall me, if I'm not alone it'd be harder for them to get to me."

"Well, if you're sure you can handle me and destructo-girl there..."

"Buffy!"

"...We'd be delighted. Ready, Dawn?"

* * * * * *

After the meeting Warrick stopped a few blocks from headquarters, went into a call box, and dialed a local number. "Mistress? They know who you are and what you plan... No, nothing yet... As you wish, mistress... They are staying with Sara Sidle, the address is..."

As he hung up the phone, a minute or two later, he grabbed a cricket that was crawling on the glass and stuffed it into his mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

Sara had to spend nearly an hour with an identification technician before they left headquarters. Fortunately she had a good memory for faces and knew how to make the system work efficiently. Meanwhile Buffy described the vampires' clothing to Dawn, who sketched it and made dozens of small changes before Buffy was satisfied.

"Okay," said Sara, "Three good-looking vamps, and from the look of it three designer dresses, or good knock-offs."

"They're current styles," said Buffy, "usually vamps are a few years behind the times."

"If they moved here in a hurry two years ago maybe they had to change their wardrobes," commented Sara.

"Could be, we never really checked out their place properly once we were sure they were gone. Dracula was really loaded, maybe they just went on a shopping spree with his cash once he was out of the way. Although it's kind of hard for a vampire to go clothes shopping inconspicuously, not having a reflection is a little obvious in a dress store."

"Most times I've heard of vampires on a shopping spree," said Dawn, "they just pick what they want and kill anyone who gets in their way."

"Well yeah, but I think the Brides were trying to keep a low profile. A high body count tends to attract attention."

"Those sketches are very good," said Sara, "I'll get copies circulated to dress stores and boutiques, see if we can find out where they came from. Okay, I think we're about finished, I'll lead the way back to my place. When we get there remind me to give you a parking permit to display behind your windscreen, or you'll be clamped."

* * * * * *

As Sara got out of her car she thought she saw something flicker through the security lighting. Something flying...

Buffy and Dawn pulled up in their Jeep, and Sara went over with a parking permit. "Could be nothing, but I think I just saw a bat."

"Do you get them normally?" asked Buffy.

"Can't say I've noticed any here, but there's plenty in the area. Get a rabies case every two or three years."

"They mostly fly on moonlit nights and around dusk, and near lakes and rivers," said Dawn, "it's not the right time and there's no moon."

"How do you know that?" asked Buffy, reaching into the Jeep for a crossbow.

"Because unlike some people here I occasionally remember to do my science assignments," said Dawn, getting out a cross.

"I used to do mine... sometimes. Wasn't the same after that giant mantis thing killed my favourite teacher."

"So what do we do now?" asked Sara, thinking "Giant mantis?"

"Get inside. Dawn, I've got a feeling Sara's right, I can feel something watching us. You take the small case and the crossbow and a couple of bottles of holy water, I'll bring the bags. Sara, take the cross from Dawn and another couple of bottles."

Sara noticed the Jeep visibly rise on its springs as Buffy got the bags. "What on earth do you have in there?"

"Clothes, cosmetics, a few weapons."

"Even for you it's a little heavy," said Dawn. "What are you packing there? Hope it's not another rocket launcher, they're kind of illegal."

"If you must know, I bought the hammer," said Buffy.

"We're fighting vampires, not Bugs Bunny."

"Hammer?" asked Sara, leading the way up the outside steps to her apartment, and wondering how the sisters found time to bicker when their lives might be in danger.

"Troll hammer. It's big and kind of heavy. Fought a goddess with it once. Didn't know what I'd need when we left Sunnydale. It's probably overkill for the brides."

"That thing is overkill for demolishing buildings, Buffy. And I'll bet it's crushed my clothes."

"Yeah, well... Sara, when we get to your apartment don't invite us in. You never know who else might be listening. Just open the door and get inside quickly, leave us room to follow you."

They reached the landing outside the apartment. Buffy looked around, and said "I think we're clear. Remember, no invitations."

Sara unlocked the door, checked the burglar alarm readout inside, and punched in the over-ride code, then switched on the light and stepped in, stifling her natural urge to say "come in."

Dawn followed, then Buffy, who put her bags down, took the crossbow from Dawn, and stepped back outside with a finger to her lips, shutting the door loudly. A couple of seconds later there was a loud thud, a cry of pain that sounded like a man's voice, and a "swoosh" noise.

"Buffy dusted one," said Dawn. Another swoosh. "Must be at least one other, she'd want one to question."

Through the door they heard Buffy say "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you tell me what I want to know. The hard way is I chain you to this pillar and we wait for the sun to rise."

"I can't let her do that," said Sara, "she hasn't read him his rights."

"He's a walking corpse," said Dawn. "The only right he has now is that we stop the bitches who made him that way."

"But... torture?"

"Oh, there's worse Buffy can do," Dawn said loudly, "put a cross in his mouth and make him swallow it, or pour holy water in his eyes, or pull off his arms and legs, or..."

Outside they heard a man's voice, talking fast, then a loud thud and a cry of pain. Buffy shouted "Give me some handcuffs."

Sara pulled a pair from her belt, noticing Dawn rummaging in one of the bags, and cautiously opened the door. Buffy was kneeling on the back of a ragged figure, dressed in tattered jeans and T-shirt. "Newby. Cannon fodder for the Brides. Well done on the threats, Dawn."

"Who was making threats?" asked Dawn, producing a much larger pair of steel manacles, "like you wouldn't do it if you had to..."

"Where do you want him?" asked Buffy. "Remember, I can't bring him inside unless you invite him, and if you invite him he can come back any time he wants to."

"Cuff him to the hand-rail out here," said Sara, "I'll call Brass, he's got a team ready to handle this."

Buffy looked doubtful but did as she asked, using the larger cuffs and stepping back quickly as he came to.

"Okay," said Sara, "You have the right to remain silent..."

A few minutes later a trio of officers in full riot gear arrived. "Good evening. Got the keys for the cuffs, Sara?"

"Good evening, Jeff. Buffy?"

"Here. Don't say I didn't warn you."

One of the officers unlocked the cuffs, covered by the others, while the vampire stood there, apparently subdued. As the key clicked his face morphed and he tried to bite him. One of the waiting officers slammed a baton into the vampire's teeth, breaking fangs, the other shoved an electrified prod into his stomach. In moments they had the vampire cuffed again, and a heavy leather gag in his bleeding mouth. "Resisting arrest, that's good enough to hold him," said 'Jeff'. "We'll take care of the paperwork in the morning." He joined the others in dragging the vampire away.

"We may only be police," said Sara, "but we've got the resources of one of the richest cities in America backing us. Perps often have a hard time understanding that."

"Impressive," said Buffy, "just hope he doesn't hypnotise someone and escape."

"Do you think that's likely?" asked Sara.

"Not really, it's only the older vampires, and ones that were psychic before they were turned, that seem to have the knack."

"Okay then... coffee?"

They went inside.

* * * * * *

"...so then the guy is practically on his knees," said Buffy, cutting another slice of pizza, "begging me not to tell anyone that he's a virgin, and Xander is taking it out on the eggs, hoping we won't notice that she kidnapped him for the same reason."

"Happy days?" asked Sara, wondering how Buffy kept her figure on that calorie intake.

"Occasional happy moments, maybe. One kid was vamped the day I started, three others were killed a couple of days later. My final year someone realised we had the lowest death rate since the school started keeping records. Some of the class thought that was a reason to celebrate at the prom, then sixteen people died on graduation day. What do you think?"

"That's... tough."

"Nothing like a corpse falling out of your locker to brighten your day."

"That might brighten your day," said Dawn, "but I'm beat. When you call Giles say 'hi' for me, and give Willow a kiss. I'm heading for bed."

"How about you?" asked Sara once Dawn was gone.

"Slayers don't seem to need much sleep. I'm going to hit a few bars, a couple of places that fang-face mentioned and anywhere else that looks interesting, and make my presence felt. The vamps know I'm here, I want them and everyone else to know that life will be very tough if I don't get what I want."

"I'd better come with you."

"No. You'd slow me down, and like I said the vamps know I'm here. As in, here in this apartment. If you were right there was a bat out there, and I doubt it was one of the newbies I staked. I'd really appreciate it if you could stay up until I get back and make sure that Dawn doesn't come to any harm. She knows better than to fall for most vampire tricks, and I hope I've told you enough that you'll be all right until I get back, but I don't want her left on her own."

"Why would they want to hurt Dawn?" asked Sara quietly.

Buffy hesitated, then said "Most magical rituals will work just as well with Dawn's blood as with mine."

"But she isn't a Slayer."

"I know. There are reasons... but I can't discuss them."

"Okay. If you could leave me a crossbow and some ammunition, and show me how to use it, I'll make myself another coffee and keep watch."

"Keep your gun handy too, they might have human servants that don't need an invitation to get inside."

Buffy strapped a sword to her back, covering it with a loose leather jacket, put stakes into the pockets, and went to the door. "Lock and chain it as soon as I'm gone. When I get back make sure it really is me before you open the door. And whatever you do, don't invite anyone in, even me."

A few minutes after she left Dawn came out of her room, still dressed.

"I thought you'd gone to bed," said Sara.

"I'm like Buffy, don't need much sleep. You mind if I keep you company until she gets back?"

"Sure. I was just going to read, but if you'd prefer TV or some music..?"

"No. I've got things to read, need to find out more about Dracula." She paused, and Sara knew something important was coming. "What Buffy said about my blood is true."

"You have good hearing."

"Yeah. I'm like Buffy in a lot of ways. What she didn't say..." she hesitated again, then said "It works both ways. When she died last year, it was in my place. Someone started a spell with my blood, it would have destroyed the world. She stomped the bad guys, but the only way to stop the spell was to kill me... except Buffy realised it would stop if she killed herself instead."

"And you've been blaming yourself ever since?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"Were you responsible for the spell?"

There was a long pause, then "No."

"Did you do everything you could to avoid it?"

Another pause. "Yes."

"Did you ask her to do it?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why blame yourself for it?"

"I don't know. The really bad part..."

"Yes?"

"She told you how they brought her back from Heaven. Afterwards she was... different. Like part of her wanted to be dead again. She got over it eventually, but I spent most of the last year hating her because she wanted to leave me."

"Did she?"

"I don't think so. But I wasn't thinking too straight then. And then a few weeks ago she was shot, nearly killed again, and I actually blamed her for it."

"All girls hate their brothers and sisters some of the time. From the sound of things, if I led the life you two lead I'd be catatonic. I think you're tough, and I think you're handling a really rough deal as well as you can. You can have my sympathy, for what it's worth. But if you want advice go to someone else, I'm fresh out."

Dawn thought a while, then smiled. "I guess. Any of that pizza left?"

* * * * * *

In the lab Greg soldered the final resistor onto his latest project, waited a few seconds for it to cool, and clipped a nine volt battery into place. There was a subdued whistle; he raised the board towards the nearest fluorescent light, and it changed to a shrill hum. When he shook a bunch of keys a clicking noise came from the speaker, and there was a loud rasp when he rubbed his fingers together.

"Now for some real tests," he muttered, and fired up some of the equipment he usually used to analyse suspect tapes.

* * * * * *

Catherine sat by the bed, with a book of fairy tales on her lap, and wondered if she was being a coward. Her daughter stirred slightly in her sleep, and Catherine gently pulled the covers up a little. If this was cowardice, she decided, she could live with it.

She slowly dialed down the brightness of the light and went to make herself supper and write up some reports.

* * * * * *

After visiting a couple of shops Nick went to the pistol range and got an unusual gun from his locker; a huge smooth-bore black-powder revolver normally used for specialist contests. He spent the next two hours experimenting with loads until he had what he wanted. He locked the gun and ammunition into a steel transport case and took it home. In the morning he'd do the paperwork to carry it instead of his normal gun.

* * * * * *

Grissom didn't know it, but his mind was working along similar lines to Greg. He stopped off at a discount computer store on his way home and picked up a job lot of cheap web cameras, and spent the rest of the evening reading and checking on-line sources. As far as he could tell standard laboratory equipment would do nearly everything he wanted. Once he was satisfied he went to bed.

* * * * * *

Warrick sat in his apartment, staring into space and waiting for instructions. Occasionally he opened a jar of flies and ate one.

* * * * * *

Buffy left Sara's apartment on foot and headed across town towards the first bar on her list. Her route would take her through two cemetaries and a park. She didn't know the city, but she was reasonably sure she'd be able to take care of herself. She was sure that she was being watched. Although she didn't know it, she was being tracked by four cameras and half a dozen pairs of eyes, most of them human.


	6. Chapter 6

With nearly a year of lead time since Angel had reminded him that vampires exist, Captain Brass had made some useful connections and knew how to access some unusual equipment. Currently a piece of that equipment was 2700 feet above Buffy and roughly the same distance North, pretending to monitor traffic. Borrowed from the Air National Guard, and flown by police pilots who were Guard reservists, the Pave Low helicopter took off before Sara and the Summers sisters left headquarters, and could stay in the air all night. With broad rotor blades and a shrouded vector thrust fan it was also relatively quiet, barely audible above the traffic at ground level. Normally its armaments included mini-guns and an assortment of bombs and missiles; for this mission they were replaced by four computer-controlled gyro-stabilised thermal imaging and image intensifier cameras with thousand-millimetre lenses, linked to video recorders and encrypted transmitters. The cameraman could see Buffy's face clearly enough to recognise her from a photo. "Air three-niner to base, Elvis has left the building, heading North-West. Locking cameras onto Elvis."

"Copy. Shadow and report, maintain your distance."

"Stopped at a street lamp, looking at something... a map, I think. Now heading downtown, fast walk."

"Copy. Stay on Elvis, watch out for any groupies."

"Copy... Air three-niner, we have groupies. Say again, we have groupies."

"Copy. What have you got?"

"Three of them, look like college kids, hanging way back. Think they came from the adjacent apartment building, number 1249, someone must have been watching out for Elvis. Okay visually, but thermal imaging is way off. Almost no heat signature."

"Copy. We'll get a ground unit out to check 1249 once Elvis has left the area."

"Elvis has reached the park. Starting to run... I make that fifteen... twenty... twenty-five miles per hour. They're out in the open, can't see any civilians nearby. Groupies are following, closing. Elvis is stopping and turning, drawing some sort of weapon... sword, I think."

"Copy."

"Groupies fanning out. Now five, say again five groupies, all abnormal body heat. Elvis is engag... holy crap."

"Say again, three-niner."

"Scratch three groupies, Elvis is now pursuing four and... scratch four, Elvis is pursuing groupy five. What the hell happened to them? They just vanished when she hit them... Elvis has closed groupy five, looks like hand to hand combat.. Groupy five is down. Elvis has him. Looks like they're talking... Elvis is standing back, Groupy five is running. Shall I follow?"

"Negative, three-niner, stay with Elvis, maintain radio discipline. Is Elvis pursuing?"

"Negative. Continuing on original route."

In the control room Brass watched the monitors intently, knowing that his career might be on the line if things got out of hand. "I knew that the Slayers were good," he said to one of his lieutenants, "but that's goddamned awesome. Looks like she's letting the small fry go to spread the word."

"Risky. They might be working for the main hostiles."

"Probably are. I think she wants to spread the word that doing that's a really dumb idea."

"Any idea where she's headed?"

"She said something about hitting some bars. Places where the monsters hang out."

"That ought to be interesting."

"Oh yeah..."

* * * * *

"All units, disturbance reported at Clancy's Bar and Grill, nine-two-seven east..."

"Brass to all units, operational override code one-niner-niner. Do not repeat not repond to disturbance..."

* * * * *

"Air three-niner to base, Elvis has entered another building, I make that Luigi's Pizza Palace and Cocktail Lounge, corner of eighty-seven and... Okay, same as last time, several customers leaving in a hurry. Five through the door, all warm, three abnormal thermal images out through the window, which is totalled. Elvis is following. One dusted... two gone... talking to the third... third is trying to fight... scratch three. Elvis is going back inside."

* * * * *

"Hi. Sorry to disturb your evening. Some of you know who I am, I think the rest of you can guess. For the benefit of the slow of thinking, I'm the Slayer."

Buffy was shorter than anyone else in the bar. She still dominated the room effortlessly.

"Now you're probably wondering why I'm here, rather than sitting at home watching Passions or patrolling the Hellmouth. The answer is that someone who lives here has made me a little annoyed. Don't drool venom when I'm talking, it's gross."

One of the customers wiped its mouth apologetically and tried to retract its protruding jaw.

"That's better. Now then, some of you will have seen the story about the murdered children on the news. If you have any sense you'll know that's vampire work; to be precise, the work of the Brides of Dracula. As far as I can tell they've done it specifically to bring me here, and I'd guess that most of you won't be too happy with that."

"What's it to us?" asked someone who looked more or less human apart from bleary yellow eyes.

"Right now the only reason there aren't a dozen cops here is that the police have given me a free run. They're getting ready to crack down on the vampires in a big way... do you really think you won't get caught in the crossfire? This is your warning, guys, either this one gets settled fast or there won't be any bars left that serve your kind, no butchers that keep bags of blood or brains or eyeballs and don't ask questions, and the magic shops will drop the yak urine and Dagon spheres and go back to selling card tricks and ouija boards. Don't try to leave, I'm not finished yet."

Buffy threw a stake, almost without looking. It pinned a demoness's sleeve to the bar. She hastily sat down.

"Now if someone gets me the location of the Brides and details of their plans, and it happens really, really fast, I may not have to come back. I can't guarantee that the police won't pay a visit, because the Brides have them angry, but you can probably get past that if you're careful and keep the place clean. Right now I am just a little annoyed. If anyone wants to see what I'm like when I'm angry just say the word and I'll be happy to demonstrate. Or you can ask that pile of dust in the corner, or the three outside, if you're good with a ouija board. Any questions?"

The barman, who looked human, timidly raised a hand. "I don't know anything, but if someone does, how should they reach you? And is there a reward?"

Buffy threw him a card. "Here. It's the police hotline for this case. And no, there's no reward, except the reward of being good citizens and seeing me go back to Sunnydale and out of your lives. Does anyone think the reward is inadequate... thought not."

* * * * *

Buffy got back to Sara's apartment block just after one. As she crossed the car-park a voice called her:

"Miss Summers? We met this afternoon. Warrick Brown, CSI."

"Yeah, I remember."

"There's been some trouble here. Nobody's hurt, but the apartment isn't secure. Sara and your sister have been moved to a safe house outside town."

"Okay... did they take my bags, my equipment?"

"Yes, they've got everything."

"Okay... you lead the way, I'll follow in my Jeep."

"Better not - we think they might know it. I'll give you a lift, we'll get it picked up in the morning."

"Okay... Let's go, then."


	7. Chapter 7

The meeting began at nine. Everyone was there except Captain Brass and Buffy. Grissom nodded to Dawn and said "Miss Summers? Is your sister here?"

Dawn's face was pale and her eyes a little red. "She didn't come back last night. I think she's been taken by the Brides. I've called for help."

"What sort of help?" asked Nick.

"They're sending Willow."

"Willow?" asked Grissom.

"She's a wicca. A witch. Really powerful. Famous for it, if you know about magic."

"I remember," said Catherine, "Angel mentioned her once. You don't sound too happy about it."

"It's... kind of dangerous. Angel's never seen her since she got her full power. She's Buffy's best friend but she's done things...last year she fought a hell-god and nearly won, a few months later she brought Buffy back from the dead, just a couple of months ago she cured Buffy when she was shot. But she did it all with black magic, as black as it ever gets, and sometimes it tries to take her over. When her girlfriend was murdered she couldn't bring her back and went looking for vengeance. It was bad, real bad. If she loses control, even for a second..."

"Worse than a vengeance demon?" asked Nick, remembering his last contact with magic.

"They offered to make her a vengeance demon a couple of times. Really wanted her. She turned them down. I think she shought they were too limited."

"What would happen if she lost control?" asked Grissom patiently.

"I only saw it once. She was like... like the Emperor in Star Wars. Only worse. It's... it's like she has this power inside her, like an H-bomb, and she can do almost anything with it. But if she lets it out too far... Once she gets here she'll find Buffy. If they've hurt her there's no way they'd be able to hide from her, no defence when she kills them. But if Buffy is dead she probably wouldn't stop with the Brides... The only reason she isn't here already is that she's in Britain, it's too far for her to teleport so she'll have to take the plane. Won't be here until tonight."

"Then I'd suggest we try to find Buffy first," said Grissom. "Always assuming that she's in need of our help, of course. Anyone have anything to report? Greg?"

"I finished with the photographs last night," said Greg. "No surprises. Fingerprints for Buffy on the prints, for Buffy and Dawn on the envelope. Also prints for at least three others on the envelope, I've identified FedEx employees for two of the three, still working on the third. I've got some partial prints that don't match Buffy or Dawn pressed into the surface of some of the prints, but they aren't anywhere in our database. I'll be honest, the only prints that hit on the database were Buffy, seems she's been in trouble a few times. No outstanding warrants though. One thing, at least three of the photos should have shown reflections of the photographer. They didn't."

"Confirms vampires," said Grissom, "but I guess we knew that already. Nick?"

"I've been down at the range experimenting with some ideas for anti-vampire rounds. While I guess we could make wooden bullets, I'm not up to doing it overnight. But I did come up with this." He pulled a huge revolver from its holster. "Smoothbore, with five black-powder cartridges. I've filled them with hardwood beads, about the size of birdshot. Ought to be fairly effective against bats."

"That could be useful. What about mass producing them?"

"No chance, it's a custom-made gun. But I've got a friend making a couple of hundred riot-gun cartridges with the same beads. He thinks I'm nuts, but he's doing it. Ought to be ready this afternoon."

"Forgot to say," said Greg, "I did a little work on bats myself. I've built a couple of ultrasonic detectors, they'll pick up bat sonar and let us know if they're around."

"Well done," said Grissom, "I've had some ideas along those lines myself, we'd better get together later. Catherine?"

"Nothing immediately helpful, I'm afraid. One thought for the future, though... this building has air scrubbers and other biohazard containment features. It might be possible to extend them to keep out any other vampires that can turn into vapour. A few ultra-violet lamps in the air intakes might be useful, if that's what hurts vampires."

"I'll put in a funding proposal. We can say it's for use if there's a terrorist attack. Sara?"

"Brass has his men taking pictures of the Brides and their dresses to every designer clothes shop in town. We ought to get feedback on that later today with luck."

"And Warrick?"

"Nothing useful on the prints I found at the scene. We need to get back in there, finish checking it out, see if there is any fresh evidence after the attack on Sara last night."

"Okay. Now Jim Brass tells me that Buffy was very active yesterday evening. We had reports of disturbances at half a dozen different bars, when units followed up on the calls they found that every one of them seemed to be having horror theme nights, with what the patrolmen described as excellent costumes. I think we have to assume that the Brides caught up with her at one of the bars and snatched her. But from the looks of things she made quite an impression first, it's possible that some information will be forthcoming."

"Okay, this morning I'll be setting up the anti-vampire camera system I mentioned, covering some key locations in this building. I also want to get together with Greg a little later and discuss the ultrasonic detectors he's built, and some refinements I've thought of. Dawn, you may be able to help with that too, and if there's any news of your sister we'll hear it here first. Warrick, Sara, I'd like you go back to the crime scene and finish up there. Nick, I think you'd better go with them with that gun."

"Take a crossbow too, Sara," said Dawn. "I left one in your car."

"Catherine, Greg" said Grissom, "I'd like you to run forensics on a vampire that Sara arrested last night, he's in one of the holding cells downstairs. Brass has some men standing by to assist you in controlling him. If there's nothing else let's move, we have a lot to do."

After everyone had gone Grissom said "Do you think he bought it?"

Dawn said "Let's hope so. Right now Warrick's our best lead to the Brides, and with luck he'll try to contact them right away. That'd be difficult once he was with Sara and Nick, so it has to be pretty soon."

"It's hard to believe..."

"It's not like he has a choice. They must have caught him on his way out of the studio, before they attacked Sara. Thrall is like brainwashing, you think you're doing the right thing."

"That's not what I meant. That story about the witch, do you think he'd believe all that?"

"He might not, but the Brides will have heard of her. I wasn't exaggerating, she really is that famous if you know magic. She's in no state to deal with something like this right now, but if she was I'd be begging her to take the next flight."

"It's a good thing that Brass still had Buffy under surveillance when Warrick picked her up last night. If only they hadn't lost the car..."

"Buffy would have spotted your guys following her, and I think she must have had an idea what Warrick was up to. Letting herself get caught would be the best way to get to the Brides quickly, and she probably thinks she can break herself out if she has to."

"Let's hope that you're right."

"Even if I am, it doesn't mean we should sit by and do nothing. Can I use your phone? I need to make some calls."

* * * * *

Buffy woke in a grey featureless cell. The only furnishings were a dirty mattress on the floor and an empty plastic bucket in one of the corners. Illumination was a small electric light, high up on one of the walls and protected by thick wire mesh. Nothing that looked promising as a weapon. Her jacket was missing, so were her weapons and the cross and holy water. She felt woozy, and remembered that she'd been drugged. Warrick. He hadn't fooled her, of course, especially when he said that Dawn and Sara had moved her weapons; no way was anyone going to move the troll hammer easily without Slayer strength or a fork-lift truck. She'd expected a quick ride to vampire central; she hadn't expected him to jab her with a hypodermic along the way.

She pulled herself upright and checked the door. Big. Metal. Not promising. There was a small grille at eye level; it showed a fascinating view of a corridor stretching left and right, and a vampire sat opposite reading a copy of USA Today. From the headline it was at least three days old. No sign of the Brides.

"Now here's my plan..." thought Buffy. She sat on the mattress and began to practice one of Giles' meditation techniques, the one that was supposed to focus her energies for a forthcoming struggle. Odd how often she seemed to use that one...


	8. Chapter 8

Warrick tried to use his cellphone and swore. Signal too low, one of the cell masts must be down. He'd have to wait until he was in the van.

"Warrick," said Nick from the door, "Can you give me a ride to the crime scene? My engine was playing up on the way in, I don't want to have to wait for the AAA."

"No problem - head downstairs, I've just got to get some more lifters and print powder, be ready in a couple of minutes."

That settled it. He picked up the phone and dialled.

In a nearby office Jim Brass and an Internal Affairs technician watched the view from a tiny bugging camera in Warrick's office, while a computer monitored the phone system. "He's using the phone, extension two-one-five. Dialling... okay, that's a cellphone number. I'll put in a trace, see if we can locate the phone at the other end."

"Can you record the call?"

"I am."

"Good thing he isn't using his own cellphone."

"Good thing my ass, I'm jamming the signal."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"It's short range, won't affect anyone outside this building. If the FCC complains I'll refer them to you. Okay, he's off the phone."

Warrick put the last supplies in his bag and left the office, heading downstairs. Brass said "Track him through the security cameras, let me know if he does anything else that's odd. And play back the tape."

"Okay. Here we go..."

"8435," said a rasping male voice.

"It's Warrick Brown, I don't have much time. Tell them that the Slayer's sister has called someone called Willow. She says she's a witch. She'll arrive in Las Vegas some time tonight."

"So?"

"According to the sister, this Willow will be able to find the Slayer wherever she might be hidden, and is powerful enough to harm the Brides."

"She lies, but I will tell them. Go now. Serve well, and you will join the Brides in eternal life and youth."

"That's it," said the technician. "Witches and eternal life and slayers, huh? Some sort of cult? Going to tell me what this is about some time?"

"Trust me," said Brass, "you really don't want to know. Now get me some information on the number he called. A location would be nice."

* * * * *

"Has he been read his rights?" asked Catherine, looking at the raggedly-dressed prisoner on the closed-circuit TV screen.

"Read by the arresting officer, apparently," said the grizzled Sergeant in charge of the cells. "Captain Brass warned us he's dangerous, he left a couple of men standing by to restrain him for your examination."

"Nice of him. Get them down here, I want to get started. Greg, you know what to say?"

"No problem. Sounds like it'll be fun."

"Okay, let's get downstairs."

Catherine looked at the prisoner through the bars, and the prisoner looked back. Apart from the clothes he seemed normal enough. Eventually he said "What are you staring at?"

"Just checking." She turned to Greg and said "He's a vampire all right. Only one inhalation in nearly three minutes."

"A vampire? Me? What are you on, drugs?"

"No. We've seen vampires before, so don't waste your.. sorry, you don't breathe do you... let's say your time."

"I want an attorney."

"Fine. Give us the number of your attorney, we'll call him, or we can assign one from the public defender's office."

"Do that."

"Very well. Let's go upstairs to the interview room to see him."

Catherine nodded to the guards. One of them unlocked the cell, while the other covered the prisoner with a Taser.

"I know my rights," said the vampire, walking towards the cell door. The guards moved to escort him, extremely carefully.

"You might want to shut your eyes for a moment when we go out of the cell door," said Greg, "it's kind of a bright morning."

"Wait a minute," said the vampire, stopping. "I want to see my attorney down here."

"Sorry, it's the interview room or nothing."

"I have an allergy to sunlight. Bring him down to me."

"Come on, a couple of minutes won't hurt you."

"Err.. I want to waive my right to an attorney."

"Smart," said Catherine. "Very smart. Let's go back to the cell, we'll start again."

* * * * *

"Dawn, there's a call for you," said Grissom, "says his name is Clem."

"Let me talk to him... Okay, Dawn here, thanks for calling back. Do you have anything for me?... I'll tell the police, doesn't mean much to me. Anything else?... He's in Las Vegas? Okay, I'll try to find a way to see him if you think it'd help. Keep digging. And thanks again."

Dawn hung off, then said "That was a friend in Sunnydale. He's been talking to the demon crowd there, trying to find out if anyone knows anything about the situation in Las Vegas. He says that the vampires here mostly hang out around a place called Lorenz Park, he thinks it might be where they hunt."

"It might be where they're based," said Brass from the doorway. "Warrick called a cellphone that's in the cell covering the park and the surrounding neighbourhood. The address it's registered to is a phoney, but the phone itself was in that area an hour ago. No guarantee that it's still there, of course, but it might be a lead. I've got men working on it, and I've applied for a warrant to intercept all calls to or from that number."

"That's good," said Grissom, "did your friend have any other leads?"

"Only one thing," said Dawn. "He says that there's a psychic in town that might be able to help. Name of Lorn, Loren, something like that. He sings at one of the casinos."

"If that's Lorne," said Brass, "he's the nutjob in green makeup that's starring at the Tropicana."

"If Clem knows him it probably isn't makeup. Can someone give me a lift there? I need to see him."

"I'll send someone out to talk to him," said Brass.

"No, he'll need to see me. His power apparently works like that."

"Okay, I'll take you myself," said Brass. "My men can take care of things for an hour or so, and I always did like to meet celebrities."

* * * * *

"This is a nothing assignment," said Warrick. "What good are we doing here?"

"Same as any other case," said Sara, lifting another footprint from the studio floor. "Gathering the evidence we need. You know as well as I do that the only way to get all the evidence is to collect all the evidence, even things that turn out to be irrelevant. There might be something here that shows us where they're holding Buffy."

"What good is she anyway?" asked Warrick. "Okay, so she killed a few vampires. We don't even know that they were hurting anyone. She hasn't got near the Brides yet. Assuming they really are the perps, of course."

"Why not?" said Sara. "I saw those bitches myself, if I hadn't been lucky I would have been lunch for them before Buffy got here."

"I'm beginning to wonder if they were here because Buffy was here. Sure, somebody murdered the people here, but maybe those three turned up because the Slayer was in town and they wanted to protect themselves."

"No, they pretty much said that they were the murderers. No doubt in my mind."

"Maybe... but who are we to judge them?"

"What?" asked Nick. "Are you serious?"

"Think about it. What do we do to vampires apart from kill them? Do we give them any alternative? There's a Slayer that does nothing but hunt them, and I don't see people volunteering to give them blood."

"That's a.. novel perspective," said Sara. "Doubt you'll get many people agreeing with you though."

"Maybe they should think about it. I've done with the fingerprints, heading back to the lab."

Sara and Nick listened to his footprints going downstairs, then Nick punched one of the preset numbers on his phone and said "Warrick's on the move, headed out."

"Okay, on him."

* * * * *

"I've known federal pens that were easier to get into," said Brass as he and Dawn were finally allowed behind the scenes at the Tropicana.

"I guess that he must have a lot of fans bothering him," said Dawn, staring nervously at a poster of Lorne in the corridor leading to his dressing room. "I hope he's okay... the last time I met someone with a complexion like that it was a dancing demon that was killing people with spontaneous human combustion."

"Weird."

A showgirl wearing green glitter makeup and small red horns, and very little else, opened the door to the dressing room and invited them in. Brass looked around and snorted. "The last time I saw something this glitzy was Liberace's funeral."

A tall green figure with red horns, wearing a silk dressing gown, came in from another room and smiled at Dawn. "I was told that the police wanted to see me. Aren't you just a little young to be a cop?"

"I'm Captain Brass, Las Vegas Police Department", said Brass, "this is Dawn Summers."

"You want autographs? Tickets for the show? Coffee? Chocolate? A job in the chorus line when you're a little older?"

Dawn blushed, then said "No. We need your help. My sister is missing, and I'm told that you're the demon that can find her."

"Moi?"

"Word gets around."

"I don't do that sort of thing any more, it never seems to end well."

"Would you do it for the Slayer?"

"Slayer? You're not the Slayer, I know what she looks... wait a momento, Dawn Summers? As in Buffy Summers?"

"Yeah, she's my sister."

"Why didn't you say so? Cupcake, your sister's ex and I go way back."

"Angel?"

"That's right, mister tall, dark, and broodsome himself."

"We think that Buffy's been kidnapped by the Brides of Dracula. They're three really old vampires, we think they're pretty powerful."

"More powerful than Angel?"

"Uh.. maybe."

"Well... like I said, I've pretty much given up on this stuff, but for you I'll try. What do you want to sing?"

"Sing?"

"It's the way it works, sweetlips. You sing and I get the vision, set you on your path."

"I'm not going to end up married to you and swept off to hell, am I? Cos' that's what nearly happened the last time a demon wanted me to sing."

"No, nothing like that. Nothing bad. You sing something, I feel your mojo. Except I can kind of feel it already, that's a big green aura for such a little girl. Austin Powers should have that much mojo."

Dawn blushed again. "What should I sing?"

"Doesn't matter. A love song, a nursery rhyme, it's all good."

"Okay... um... Dido then." She started to sing uncertainly:

I thought it was funny when you missed the train  
When I rang you at home they said you'd left yesterday  
I thought it was strange when your car was found  
By the tree...

Lorn listened for a moment, then cried "Stop!" and collapsed into an armchair, looking shaken.

"You all right?" asked Brass.

"Sorry... a little too Hellmouthy for my tastes. You people live in that place? 'From beneath you it devours', wonder what that means. Sorry, passing thought. Let me try again, but this time sing something a little less angsty."

"Okay" said Dawn, "Mom always watched Passions, I know the theme song:

_"Breathe in, breathe out,  
You keep me alive.  
You are the fire burning inside.  
Breathe in, breathe out,  
You keep me alive.  
You are the fire, my passion for life."_

"Better... I'm getting something... kind of odd, a feeling like something's watching over her."

"Over Buffy?"

"Over her and over you, cupcake. Not one of the Powers, more... uh oh... oh crap... whatever it is, I think it just noticed me. Owww." He staggered again.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so, if I take a couple of dozen aspirin. But I think I just set off someone's alarm. Someone that really doesn't want anyone spying on the Slayer or you. I don't want to try that again, I get the feeling that next time there'll be more than alarm bells ringing."

"But what was it?"

"I don't know, sugar. I really don't know. But I've got a matinee in twenty minutes, so it's going to have to wait. Come back between shows if you still need help and you think of something else. I'll tell the doorman to let you in straight away."

Lorne saw them out. A few moments later the casino owner came in, with his retinue of thugs. "What was that about?"

"That was about the sister of the Vampire Slayer and the Las Vegas police department wanting me to poke my nose where someone a lot more powerful than I am doesn't want it. If you want me to mess with that again I can try, but I get the feeling that it'd be a really dumb move for you to do anything but stay well out of the way. Whatever that was, it isn't taking prisoners."

* * * * *

A few feet from Buffy, in the darkest corner of her cell, the tip of a green shoot poked out through a tiny crack in the concrete. Slowly, but with inexorable power, it began to grow. Meditating, Buffy didn't notice.


	9. Chapter 9

"Do you want to tell me what that was about?" asked Brass as he drove Dawn back to headquarters.

"I don't know. It sounded like a spell, something protective. Something to stop... oh."

"Yes?"

"There was a spell.. a couple of years ago now, some monks used a spell to hide me from someone who wanted to kill me."

"They wanted to kill you? Not your sister?"

"Uhuh. She wouldn't have gone near Buffy if she hadn't been protecting me. It's kind of complicated."

"Okay. So, can these monks cancel the spell?"

"No. They're all dead. She killed them, and drove a whole bunch of people in Sunnydale insane."

"Okay, scratch that idea. Sounds like we're going to have to do this the hard way."

* * * * *

Brass and Dawn got back to headquarters as Warrick left the studio, and were in the control room as the cars following him began to report in.

"Target on Washington Avenue heading West. Passing Bruce Street."

"Sounds like he might be headed towards Lorenz Park," said Brass.

"That's where Clem said the vampires are based", said Dawn. "Look out for old warehouses, factories, that sort of thing. Places that don't have a lot of windows."

"Passing Highland Avenue."

"Brown's making a call from his cellphone!" said one of the technicians. "Same number as before."

"Put it on speaker," said Brass.

"This is Warrick Brown. I think I'm being followed, I'm going to lose them before I come in."

"Damn," said Brass. "See if you can pin down the location of the phone he's calling."

A familiar rasping voice said "Stay away, Brown. The Brides wish you to draw off your pursuit. When the ritual is complete and the Master has risen you will be summoned for your reward." The call ended.

"North side of the park, or close to that side inside the park."

Brass said "There's a lot of small streets in that area. Could be difficult to pin it down precisely. I think we've learned all we can by letting him run free, have them bring him in."

* * * * *

"Let's see..." said Catherine, pressing the vampire's hand to a fingerprint form, "your name is Harold Croft, you used to live on Niblick Drive near the golf course, and you've been a vampire how long?"

"About a week."

"And you're already in trouble with the police and the Slayer. Hmm... get the feeling you're in the wrong line of business?"

"It's not like I asked to be a vampire," Harold said sulkily. "They haven't even let me kill anyone yet."

"I guess not. Must be a big disappointment to you. Your other hand please. Onto the ink-pad first, then one finger at a time onto the paper like the other hand." She noticed its face start to shift a little, and said "Don't even think about doing anything else, it's still daylight outside and officer Reilley here would really like to play with his TASER again. Now, we need samples of your skin cells and saliva. Here's a swab, put the end in your mouth and rub it on the inside of your cheek, then put it into this jar."

"Why are you making me do all the work?"

"If you think I'm dumb enough to put my hands anywhere near a vampire's mouth think again. Oh, I forgot, vampires don't seem to be able to do that very well."

"This is racism."

"Sue me. Oh, the courts are only open in the daytime, how sad."

"She's enjoying this," said Grissom, watching the examination through the closed circuit cameras.

"It's a good way to get vampires to talk," said Dawn. "Buffy can threaten them, but they aren't really frightened of anyone else, except maybe Faith. Insults and flattery work better for everyone else, provided you can stop them from tearing your throat out."

"Who's Faith?" asked Brass.

"Another Slayer."

"How can there be..." began Grissom, then realised. "Oh, when your sister was killed?"

"Sort of. The first time Buffy died Kendra was activated, but she only lasted a year or so. Drusilla killed her. Faith was her replacement."

"Does she work with Buffy?"

"No. They don't really get on too well. She's... kind of quit."

Back in the cell the vampire was saying something, a threat. Grissom tuned it out until he heard the words "..when our Master arises tonight."

"Tonight?" asked Catherine.

"Yes. Tonight, two years to the very second since our Master was killed."

Dawn turned white, pulled out her notebook, and looked for the section on Dracula. "Tomorrow night, not tonight!"

"Are you sure?" asked Grissom.

"Here... tomorrow's date, 'Buffy killed...' oh crap."

"What?"

"It was late when Buffy got home, I was in bed. She told me the next morning."

* * * * *

Something roused Buffy from her meditation. She looked around, expecting to see the door open, but nothing seemed to have changed. Through the bars of the cell she could see the vampire guard working on a crossword - she briefly thought of asking for water, but decided not to risk being drugged again - but otherwise things outside were also unchanged. Inside the cell... there was something growing in the corner by the door, a tiny green plant she couldn't remember noticing before. If that was there... she went over to the corner and examined the floor around the plant, tracing a network of fine cracks. She needed some sort of tool, but there was nothing inside the cell. Just the bucket and the mattress.

"Good thing I have Slayer-strong nails," thought Buffy, quietly ripping the mattress open. Inside she found what she was hoping for; a layer of padding, then a mesh of steel springs. Breaking a length of wire loose without alerting the guard wasn't easy, but she managed it. Then she pushed the wire into the most promising-looking crack and started to dig.

* * * * *

"About half past nine?" said Dawn.

"Near as I can remember it," said Xander over the speaker-phone. "I was in thrall the first part of the evening, then punched out. Giles might have a better idea, I guess."

"I've tried calling him but all I'm getting is his answering machine. I think he said he was taking Willow to a retreat in the country, he must have decided not to have calls forwarded."

"What about Riley? He was there."

"He's on a mission somewhere with Sam, the police here have tried calling him but he isn't picking up his voicemail much."

"Well, it's more or less right. Buffy dusted him for the first time around nine-fifteen, then she got us out of the castle, then she went back to finish him off about fifteen or twenty minutes later. So some time between nine-thirty and nine-forty, I guess."

"How did you break the thrall?" asked Grissom.

"It kinda went away once Dracula was dusted. Wait a second... no, it was gone when I woke up, and Buffy had only just staked Dracula when I got back to the main hall of the castle. Being punched out must have done the trick."

"It could work," said Grissom. "Pain and shock might snap him out of it."

"A little hard on him though," said Brass. "Maybe there's other things we can try first."

* * * * *

"So let me get this straight, these dresses were stolen from your shop four months ago?"

It was Sergeant Porter's eighth dress shop of the day, on Vegas Drive a few hundred yards from Lorenz Park. She'd almost given up on finding anything, but now the manager was giving her everything she needed in one weird package. A few minutes later she called it in to Brass.

"The store's been losing stock for the past year. Eventually they realised that it was mostly happening on Thursday and Friday evenings when they open late, but none of the staff admitted to seeing anything. They put in some hidden cameras and found these three women coming in, trying on clothing, and simply walking out without paying. The counter clerks were even taking the security tabs off for them. So the manager showed the tape to the clerks and they acted like they had no idea what was going on. He fired them, and a couple of weeks later it happened again. At least four times so far, twice when the manager was actually there, and nobody remembers a thing about it. But he says the faces of the women on the tape match our composites."

"Any theft report filed?"

"Yes, after the initial loss a year ago. Nothing since, the manager has been writing it off to stop the owners realising that he can't stop the shop from being robbed."

"Pull the security tapes if they still have them and get them back to CSI."

"On it."

* * * * *

Two Internal Affairs lieutenants bought Warrick to Grissom's office. He didn't struggle or protest, just asked "What's this about?"

"The disappearance of Miss Summers. We have positive identification of you picking her up outside Sara's home, and we've been monitoring your calls today. You might as well tell us all about it."

"I haven't done anything!"

Grissom pressed 'play' on a recorder: "It's Warrick Brown, I don't have much time. Tell them that the Slayer's sister has called someone called Willow. She says she's a witch. She'll arrive in Las Vegas some time tonight."

"We have much more," said Grissom. "Tell us about it."

"He can't," said Dawn. "Maybe he wants to, but until the spell is broken he won't be able to say or do anything to harm the Brides. But I just realised what the cure must be. He just needs to drink some holy water."

"Holy water?" asked Grissom, oddly troubled by the idea. "Do you think it will work?"

"Well yeah, it burns vampires like acid, it ought to burn away their influence."

"I'll send someone to the church."

"No need, I've got a couple of bottles with me." She poured part of a bottle into a plastic tumbler, and gave it to Warrick. "Drink up."

Warrick held the glass in his hand and started to move it towards his mouth, then his muscles seemed to lock.

"Okay, let me help you." said Dawn, and stood in front of him to guide the tumbler to his mouth. Without any warning she kneed him in the groin.

Warrick collapsed to the floor, gasping, and Dawn pushed the neck of the bottle into his mouth and tilted it back, then pinched his nostrils closed. One of the lieutenants moved to pull her off him, but Brass waved him back. She held on to him until all of the bottle was gone.

Coughing and spluttering, Warrick struggled back onto his knees then threw up on the floor. Grissom noticed the remains of several insects in the mess, and decided to make sure that Warrick was given a thorough medical check. "Sorry," said Dawn, "I don't have Slayer strength to force you to drink and there isn't time to play games."

"Damn it," gasped Warrick, "you know how stupid that felt, doing everything those bitches wanted, and eating bugs and all. Thanks for that, if it didn't hurt so much I'd be kissing you."

"Ewww... you're a bit old for me, you know. D'ya want to get up now and help us rescue Buffy?"

"Just give me a minute to start breathing properly again, and let me wash my mouth out, and I'm all yours."

* * * * *

"So what have we got?" asked Brass, when everyone was back in the conference room.

"All I can really tell you," said Warrick, "is that they had me drug her and bring her to the junction of Orange Avenue and Riverside Drive. They loaded her into another car, a black Volvo. Didn't get the licence. Last I saw they were heading down Riverside Drive towards Baker Avenue, but I don't know if they turned off before they reached it, there were too many vehicles in the way."

"What drug did you use?" asked Grissom.

"Pentathol. She'd have been out for two, maybe three hours."

"Assuming that they didn't drug her again, of course."

"Usually for sacrifices and things they don't do that," said Dawn. "Drugs mess up the magic."

Sara said "I'm not sure what bothers me most, the fact that you know that or the fact that I believe that you know what you're talking about."

Dawn silently lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing faint scars. "The time someone tried to sacrifice me, they wanted me awake and dying as slowly as possible. Drugs would have interfered." There was an awkward silence. "Hey, no big deal. I'm still alive. Buffy took the fall for me."

"Okay," said Grissom, "That gives us a point on the map. She was taken here. Did the vampires give you any indication of their base's location, when you were driving there today?"

"No, I was supposed to go there and wait for someone who would drive me the rest of the way there. I guess he would have torn my throat out first."

"Can't be a vampire, it's only just gone noon. They must have other people under their control. Catherine, Greg, you learn anything from our prisoner?"

"He claims not to have killed anyone," said Catherine, "but he was present at the original crime scene, we have footprints that match his shoes and he left fingerprints on one of the lighting stands."

"I thought vampires didn't leave fingerprints," said Dawn.

"Normally no, but there was blood from one of the victims splashed on the stand, he must have dipped a finger in to take a taste. That means he was at a minimum an accessory to murder, probably one of the murderers. We know that he lived on Niblick Drive near the park, which gives us another dot on the map. He's refusing to answer questions concerning the exact location of their base."

"We could always threaten him with crosses, or holy water..." said Dawn.

"Sorry, that would be unlawful interrogation," said Brass. Dawn snorted, but said nothing.

"There are some tapes coming in that show the Brides 'shopping'", said Brass. "Looks like they were using that thrall trick on the counter clerks to avoid paying. We might learn something from that."

"All right," said Grissom. "I think it's safe to assume that we know roughly where the brides are based. What we're looking for now is the exact location. Nick, when the tapes come in I want you and Sara to work on them, see if you can spot anything that gives a clue to their location. Greg, Catherine, review the forensics and see if anything else shakes loose. Jim, I'd appreciate it if you could pull some strings with the military and the phone company, see if we can do anything to locate that cell phone more precisely. Warrick, I want you checked over by a doctor, make sure you didn't pick up any infections or parasites with those bugs. Dawn, you look hungry. Join me for lunch, then we'll sit down together and see if we can come up with sort of plan."


	10. Chapter 10

"Okay," said Nick, "what we have here is a basic CCTV security system. Six monochrome cameras feeding into a switching unit that records channels one to three continuously and switches between the others randomly, on a timer setting, or under manual control. It's on random here. Tape runs at a third normal speed, each image is a quarter the video frame, so we're not exactly talking high definition, but it ought to give us something."

Sara made notes. "Looks like cameras one and two are on the ceiling above the main sales area. One pointing towards the cash register, two towards the door. Three is behind the counter looking at the customers, four above the cash register looking down at it,, five in the stock room, six in the changing room. Hold it - here's our perps coming in to the shop. Black car outside the window, could be a Volvo S60, which would match what Warrick told us. Difficult to tell, there are a lot of reflections in the glass."

"Which don't include the perps, of course."

"Yeah. Let's freeze this frame a second. If they were human they'd be visible in the mirrors there and there, and in the glass of the counter. There's nothing. Okay, perps one and two are looking at the dresses, perp three is talking to the sales clerk. Notice anything odd there?"

"Not really... wait a second, take it back about thirty seconds and give me the views from cameras one and three side by side."

"Okay.. what have you got?"

"Watch their eyes, and their body movements," said Nick.

"They make eye contact straight away, the perp is saying something. Wait a second..."

"See it? The perp is swaying from side to side as she talks, after ten seconds or so the sales clerk is following her. Her eyes are locked to the perp."

"Hypnotism."

"Maybe, but my guess is that there's more to it than that."

"Magic?" said Sara. "How could we tell?"

"Could be that, or could be something like pheremones."

"Okay, the sales clerk is standing there now, looks like she's in a trance state. Looks like the other two are looking for dresses, while perp three stands by to deal with problems."

"Right, take it forward at normal speed, watch out for anything that might be a clue to their location."

"Okay... looks like perp one has found something she likes, the other two are talking to her. She's taken over at the counter while perp three goes shopping, and the clerk is taking off the security tag. Hey, they've got her wrapping it!"

"That's classy."

"Here's something... another customer. Uh-oh.. perp one is talking to her, looks like she's working the mojo on her. Damn, she's gone under."

On the screen one of the Brides took the hypnotised woman by the arm and led her towards the door. They went out, and outside Nicka and Sara briefly saw the interior lights of the car go on and off again.

"Take that back," said Sara, "See if you can get a good shot of her face. My guess is she's turned up missing or dead."

"Talk about a one-stop shop. Clothes and take-away food..."

"It isn't funny."

"I know. Okay, I'm taking this back at quarter speed, dropping to single frames as we get back. I'm going to freeze it as they go out of the shop.. now."

"What have you got?"

"If I'm not mistaken that's the licence plate of the car reflected in the door."

"Okay, zoom in and see if we can enhance it."

"Okay...", said Nick, feeding the image to a computer, "mirror the image, yep. Correct for perspective. Okay, that's a Nevada plate. Let's enhance... can't make all of it out but the third and fourth digits are reasonably clear. Third is either a 6 or an 8, or possibly a three, fourth is a seven. Let's try that in the database...

* * * * *

"There's a radio intelligence package," the Army technician reluctantly admitted, "it's classified, but let's just say it'll do what you want if you're close enough. Accuracy about plus or minus one percent at short range. But we're talking under a mile."

"Can you put it in a van?" asked Brass.

"It's built into a HumVee. Room for the driver, the tech sergeant that operates it, and a couple of guards."

"Perfect. I need to borrow one, who do I have to talk to?"

"You'd need to start with the base commander, but I'd guess it'd go a lot higher."

"Let's get started then."

* * * * *

"...So the medical examiner slips on the spleen and falls face down onto the corpse," said Catherine, "and that compresses the stomach, so there's this god-awful fart..."

"Okay, now that doesn't exactly gross me out," interrupted Greg, "but it's always nice to be reminded why I prefer to work with teensy little pieces of clue, not the whole enchilada. What do you make of this, sample 33?"

"Gravel embedded in the sole of mister vampire's left shoe. White, about four millimetres on a side, I'd say marble or something very similar. Looks a lot like samples 34 and 35, also from this shoe, and 47 through 51 from the other shoe."

"Let's take a closer look. I'll make a section from 33 and check it under the mineralogical microscope, you want to run the chemical tests on one of the others?"

"Sounds good to me..."

* * * * *

"So," said Grissom, leading the way to a table in the cafeteria, "what are you planning to do once you leave school?"

"College, I guess," said Dawn, munching on a fry, "Mom had a college fund set up for me when she died, there was one for Buffy too but she's pretty much used it all to support us."

"Doesn't she work?"

"Right now she's looking for another job. It's kind of difficult for her to keep one, what with not being able to work nights and the injuries and all."

"Injuries?"

"Cuts, bruises, stab wounds, broken ribs, and she's broken her arm a few times. She heals real fast, but she still has to spend a day or two in bed sometimes."

"A day or two for a broken arm?" asked Grissom, incredulously.

"She heals real fast," Dawn repeated. "Usually her friends can cover for her until she's back on her feet. I help when I can."

"Dawn... it really isn't any of my business, but you're a very intelligent girl and while I appreciate that what Buffy does is important, you can't let it take over your entire life."

"It won't... but it's what I'll be doing for the rest of Buffy's life, unless some sort of miracle stops her being the Slayer without killing her. What do you think the odds are on her reaching thirty? Or twenty-five? Or next week? She's died twice already, how long before it's permanent?"

"I'm sorry... I guess I'm not used to thinking in those terms."

"Nobody is, unless they know someone with AIDS or something. I was fifteen before I realised that she'll never have a normal life or a proper career, and that she'll probably be dead before I graduate. I'm going to do everything I can to help her until it happens. D'you want to change the subject, please..."

"Okay... I have a feeling that we're going to locate the Brides reasonably quickly. When we do, what's the best way to handle it?"

"Help Buffy to escape, if she's still their prisoner, then let her kick ass."

"Okay, that means we need a way to get to her quickly. Where would they have her?"

"If she's still a prisoner they'll either have her in chains or a really strong room, like a jail cell. It'd be somewhere away from sunlight, so that vampires can guard it; humans couldn't do the job, especially if they were in thrall. Probably in a cellar."

"So when we go in we go down, not up. We'll need bolt cutters, battering rams, possibly lock picks. Building plans, probably. What about weapons?"

"Crossbows, there are a couple more in Buffy's bags, guns for any human servants, TASERs are good against vamps and people, and so are swords or axes if people know how to use them. Bring a load of stakes for Buffy, but forget them for anyone else unless they really know what they're doing, most people are too weak and too slow to make them work, and a lot don't even know where the heart is."

"Most people? How about you?"

"I've done it a few times, but mostly they were running at me, I just got the stake up at the right time and their own speed and weight did the rest. 'Course, I've trained a lot with Buffy."

"Anything else?"

"Those shotguns Nick mentioned, and the bat detectors. Flashlights. Holy water. Crosses. First aid supplies, including whole blood and plasma if they've been bleeding her. She's the same group as me."

"Also body armour, from the sound of things, especially something to protect the head and neck. How about preventing thrall?"

"Don't really know. From what I've seen it seems to work like hypnosis, so I'd guess anything that'd prevent you from being hypnotised might work."

"I'll have to look that up."

"When you go in... I'll have to go with you."

"Absolutely not. You're a minor, Dawn."

"I'm the only person you have here who's done anything like this, and you're going to need me."

"Dawn, from the sound of things you're used to sneaking around with one or two people. This is going to be a SWAT operation, it'll be more like the invasion of Normandy. You can ride in the control van, I'll want you there to advise us, but that's as close as you're getting."

"This sucks."

"So does being kept here at headquarters, which is the only alternative I can offer."

"Okay, I'll ride in the van."

"It would help if you could be present when I brief the SWAT team on vampires. It's the same unit that helped with the werewolf case a few months ago so they ought to be able to cope with this. Basically, I'd like you to explain combat techniques, do's and dont's, that sort of thing. We have footage of our prisoner and of your sister dealing with some vampires last night, that ought to help give them the idea."

"Will they take me seriously?"

"They met Oz and saw him change; I think that they're prepared to accept that appearances can be deceptive."

* * * * *

"Hey!" said Buffy.

The vampire guarding her cell looked up, snarled slightly, and returned to its crossword.

"Hey! Any chance of some water?"

"You don't need water," said the vampire. "Few more hours and you'll be dead."

"Fine... in the meantime, you want to explain to the Brides how I've sweated away so much water that my blood clots before they can use it in their ceremony?"

"Blood doesn't clot that fast."

"I'm a Slayer, my wounds heal real fast. That means my blood clots fast too."

"I'll ask."

The guard went off down a corridor. Buffy smiled, then turned her attention back to the floor. By the time he came back she wanted to be ready to escape.

* * * * *

"You've seen the video," said Dawn. "Just to summarise again, try to remember this - a vampire is as strong and as fast as three or four normal men. You aren't, and the only way you'll survive this is by protecting each other. Don't give them any chance to get in close; guns won't phase them much, but TASERs work well, so do crossbows. Crosses and holy water will hurt them, but won't kill them quickly. Sunlight fries them, and that does work fast. Anything else you may of heard of is probably a myth. Garlic won't help, nor will silver bullets, and they can mostly cross running water. They can't turn you into a vampire just by biting you, but if you let them get close enough to bite you're probably dead anyway. If you get bitten and don't get killed you do need medical attention; there's often rotten flesh stuck to their teeth, and that can cause blood poisoning.

"From the sound of it you'll be up against the three Brides, who can turn into bats and maybe mist, you've seen their pictures, some ordinary vampires who can't, and probably a few human servants. The servants will be in thrall, that's like brainwashing, so try not to kill them. And please do your best not to kill my sister, it'll only annoy her."

There was a ripple of laughter from the SWAT team.

"That's about it, really. We ought to know where they are soon enough, and then you can kick vampire ass. Thanks for your time."

Brass rose and said "Thank you, Miss Summers. If there are no further questions I'm sure everyone has a lot to do. Most of you have already had some training with unusual weapons, those who haven't had better carry shotguns with wooden shot. All of you, without exception, will carry crosses and holy water. And yes, that does include you, Bloom...."

* * * * *

"The Centre for Disease Control wants the prisoner," said Grissom as he and Dawn met Catherine in the hallway.

"CDC want a vampire?" said Catherine, "What on earth for? And how did they hear about it?"

"They want to see if they're a significant vector in the spread of AIDS and other blood infections. No idea who told them we have one."

"Okay, I can see that being a concern, but he hasn't even been before a judge yet. He could walk."

"Tell me about it. Don't these guys have any understanding of due process?"

"I doubt it."

"Let's hope it really is the CDC," said Dawn, "not some creepy science guys like the Initiative."

"Who?" asked Catherine.

"It's what they used to call Riley Finn's guys when they were doing experiments on monsters instead of just killing them."

"What happened to them?"

"They got eaten by monsters..."

"Figures."

* * * * *

"Okay, we're pretty sure of the location. This mansion here." said Brass, indicating it on a large map. "There are twenty-odd rooms, wine cellars, storage, and recreation rooms in the basement, and it stands in its own grounds. The owner of record is a Catherine Van Helsing, which might just possibly be an alias, she bought it a little less than two years ago."

"Sounds like vampire humour," commented Dawn.

"She's also on record as the owner of a black Volvo whose registration may match the one we're looking for. It's less than fifty yards from the park, a couple of hundred from the home of our vamp downstairs, and the borders of the driveway are topped with white stone chippings. Marble, which has good reflective properties. We found pieces of marble on our prisoner's shoes."

"Is that enough for us to raid the place?" asked Grissom.

"Not quite, but let me just make a call..." Brass picked up his mobile phone and said a few words to someone. "Okay, Warrick, I want you to call the vampires from your own phone. Just say that you're going to be busy here until the evening and want instructions."

"Okay... Warrick Brown here, I have to stay at headquarters. What should I do?"

"Do nothing," said a female voice, "you will be called when the Master is... ready for you."

"As you wish, mistress..." Warrick ended the call then said "Okay, that was one of the Brides. Sounds like they're up early."

Brass listened to his phone for a moment, then said "She was calling from a room in that house, plus or minus twenty feet which is still well inside its grounds. Okay, we've got building plans from the county office, the judge is ready to sign warrants, and the troops are in the trucks and ready to go. Let's roll."


	11. Chapter 11

"When you said 'invasion' I thought you were exaggerating," said Dawn, "bur this is... wow!"

"Expensive is the word you're looking for," said Brass, "but worth it."

A fleet of trucks and armoured vans was en route to Lorenz Park, and the house was already under helicopter surveillance. In the control van Brass, Grissom, Dawn and the rest of the CSI team were studying the building and utility plans and calling in the details to the trucks.

"All this to rescue Buffy! Usually it's a couple of us with axes and crossbows."

"This isn't just about your sister," said Grissom. "It's about twelve murder victims, more than half of them children, and anyone else they've killed over the last two years."

"Oh... yeah, I'm sorry, I totally get that, it's just that it's hard not to take this personally."

"I know you're worried, but if your sister is all we think she is she'll be okay. Now, is there anything else we need to consider before we go in?"

"I was worried about sewers," said Brass, "but it doesn't look like there's anything large enough to for a vampire to move through closer than two blocks away."

"Maybe not large enough for a vampire," said Dawn, "but what about a bat? Or a wolf?"

"Okay..." said Nick, looking at the plans with a magnifier, and tapping commands into his computer. "Nearest street drain is fifty feet from the house, nearest small utility tunnel is just outside the grounds but it's only about a foot in cross section. Closer than that and you're looking at small-bore pipes and buried cables. They could have dug something, of course, but the sewers here were inspected only two weeks ago and nothing unusual was reported."

"That's good; in Sunnydale there are tunnels everywhere, so we kinda expect the vamps to use them to escape. Looks like you don't have that problem."

"There are two cars and an SUV under the car porch," said Warrick, watching the view from the helicopter's camera. "All of them have tinted glass, the vampires can probably drive them by day. Might be more vehicles in the garage."

"So we'll block the drive." said Brass. "Okay, five minutes to showtime, people. All units are at their takeoff positions."

"Communications check," said one of the technicians, "activate all radios and cameras."

A dozen more screens came to life, showing the interior of the crowded trucks where the SWAT teams were pulling on modified riot gear, including gleaming gold mirror-visored helmets, thick gloves, and padded leggings. Most of the cameras were helmet- mounted, worn by the police who were to lead the assault.

"Two minutes," said Brass, "Start your engines.... One minute... Thirty seconds... Showtime..."

"Greg," said Grissom, "start the music."

Greg pushed a few switches, and dogs began barking, first one or two then dozens of them. Dawn shook her head and said "What is that?"

"Ultrasonic jammer," said Greg. "High pitched continually varying signal, covering all of the ranges a bat might use for its sonar. Wolves probably won't like it either."

"Yeah, I can hear it a little. That's horrible, like a squeaky motor."

"You're a kid, you still have young ears. Give it five years, two if you listen to much rock, and you wouldn't hear a thing."

* * * * *

Two armoured cars were first to arrive at the house, smashing through the steel gates as though they were made of tin. One covered the front of the house, the other cut across lawns and wilting flower beds to the rear. Close behind were four covered trucks containing the SWAT teams. As the troops moved to surround the house the armoured cars began to spray the house with water cannon, smashing the windows and tearing away curtains.

"It's a shame we couldn't get a priest out in time to bless the water," said Brass, "flood the place with a few thousand gallons of holy water and there wouldn't be much left of the vampires."

"Maybe next time," said Grissom, "let's hope the need never arises."

"Where's the fifth truck?" said Brass, "I want that entrance blocked."

"On the way," said one of the technicians, "any second now."

* * * * *

In the cellar Buffy heard glass break, and decided not to wait for the guard to return. She began to tug on the base of the door frame, now freed from its foundations. There was a loud 'crack' as it ripped loose from the wall, followed by a dull thud as the door came free of its bolts and Buffy kicked it out into the corridor.

The guard came running along the corridor towards her, his fangs protruding as he leaped to attack her. Buffy staked him with the sharpened tree root she'd dug from under the floor, then started to look for better weapons.

* * * * *

The first wave of police came under fire as the vampires' human victims began to defend the house. Most of them were lethargic, half drained of blood, but they had shotguns and pistols and seemed to know how to use them.

"We should have fired tear gas," fretted Brass.

"No," said Dawn, "It wouldn't affect the vampires and Buffy's in there... she has to be able to fight."

"I guess... I just hope none of my men get hurt."

"So far we have two casualties," said Grissom, "neither serious. They don't seem to be using anything that'll get through body armour. I'm worried about the helmets though."

"Me too. They don't make armoured mirror visors for that design, we had to settle for perspex."

"Why mirrored?" asked Dawn.

"We looked at the security camera footage of the Brides," said Grissom, "it looks like they need to make eye contact with their victims to make their thrall work. With mirrored visors they can't make eye contact."

There was a burst of loud gunshots, and two of the police came out dragging a struggling man. As they got him out into the sunlight he burst into flames. "Scratch one vampire," said a technician.

"Do they have to see the victim's eyes?" asked Dawn. "What if it works if the victim just sees their eyes?"

"It's a chance we'll have to take," said Grissom.

Somebody screamed, and one of the monitors went dark.

"Damn," said Brass, "that sounded bad."

* * * * *

There was definitely something going on upstairs, and Buffy cupped her hands to catch a trickle of water dripping from the ceiling. It tasted of dust, but it was the first drink she'd had all day. She kicked in the door of the room next to her cell, and found a typical vampire nest; half a dozen beds, filth, and a rotting corpse in one corner. No weapons, no vamps, but there were a couple of wooden chairs; she pulled one apart and grabbed the cross bars and slats from the back to use as stakes. She could hear shots now, and screams; if there was a war going on up there she'd need more to deal with it.

Back into the corridor - two vamps coming from the left, neither had time to stop before she staked them. Too easy, more of the Brides' cannon-fodder, not even armed.

Round a corner, looked like a recreation room; a bar, pool table, more filth, and another corpse. The bottles on the bar were dusty, unused by the current occupants. Buffy cracked open a bottle of soda water; it was stale and flat, she drank enough to take the edge of her thirst, hoping it wouldn't give her cramps. There was a sharp knife behind the counter, probably used for lemons once. It'd do until something better came along. She broke one of the pool cues in two and took it as a long stake. Back into the corridor...

* * * * *

"Officer down in rear dining room, sucking wound to chest..."

"Officer down, front reception, broken arm..."

"Damn," said Grissom, "sounds like they've hit trouble."

"We knew there's probably be casualties," said Brass, "so far I hope we've avoided fatalities."

"That's one of the Brides," said Sara, "Camera four."

The camera carried by one of the SWAT team showed an eerily beautiful brunette woman fighting the SWAT team with demonic strength. One went down, another tried to hit her with a TASER but missed as she leaped onto him and tried to twist the helmet, and his head, from his shoulders. Bullet holes appeared in her dress, she ignored them.

Something flashed across the screen, too fast to see clearly, and the Bride snarled and tried to pull a wooden rod from her shoulders, letting go of her victim. As she twisted round the sharp end of a broken pool cue stabbed through her chest, and she crumbled to dust. Behind her was Buffy, looking unusually angry. "Anyone seen a leather jacket and my sword?"

"Team three," shouted Brass, "that's the Slayer, give her anything she wants. All units, all units, Elvis is on stage. Repeat, Elvis is on stage."

"You'd better not let Buffy hear you call her that," said Dawn, with tears in her eyes.

* * * * *

Another Bride leaped out of one of the broken second-storey windows onto the roof of the carport, her skin smouldering as she smashed through the light roof and jumped down onto the SUV. In seconds she had was driving across the lawn towards the open gates. As she did so the last truck finally arrived to block the entrance. They collided, and the tinted glass shattered. The Bride frantically tried to run in a fusilade of fire, tried to take bat form, but disintegrated in dust and flame, killed by sunlight and Nick's special cartridges.

* * * * *

The other vampires on the second floor were putting up a spirited fight, and had the police stalled at both staircases. Newly armed with an axe and two crossbows, Buffy ran out into the hall below the main stairs, braving their shots, and leaped nearly twenty feet into the air. She fired two shots, both dusting vampires, then dropped the crossbows as she landed on the upper floor and began to take vampire heads.

* * * * *

"Still looking for the third Bride," said Dawn, "must be there somewhere. Get your guys searching downstairs, remember that she can pretend to be a corpse, or hide somewhere where there's no air. She might pretend to be human, tell them to watch for anyone who isn't reflected in a helmet. Buffy'll be okay until you can get up to her."

"You have a lot of faith in your sister," commented Catherine.

"They've got her angry now, she loves that jacket and it looks like she's ruined her nails. I wouldn't want to be one of the Brides or Dracula right now."

* * * * *

Buffy caught up with the last Bride in one of the bedrooms, which had somehow retained its dark curtains. She was frantically shovelling dust and earth from an open coffin into a large plastic bag. She shouted "Heads up!" and threw the axe. The Bride dodged easily, screamed, and leaped at Buffy, realising too late that the axe was a feint. Buffy dusted her with another stake, looked around for any other immediate threats, then turned her attention to the coffin and bag. There was a bathroom adjoining, and by the time the SWAT team caught up with her the last remnants of Dracula were on their final journey, into the Las Vegas sewage system.

**Epilogue**

"...I guess I was lucky," said Buffy, "I thought I had much longer to escape, if I hadn't dug up the floor I would have still been trying to find a way out when your guys showed up, and I guess that the Brides would have killed me."

"How did you break the floor anyway?" asked Grissom.

"Just dumb luck. There was a tree root, must have put so much pressure on the concrete that it cracked. I saw a couple of little leaves, gave me the idea to dig down. Once I did that I could break the door frame and get out."

"I wouldn't call that lucky, I'd say it was resourceful. No doubt you would have found another way out if that one hadn't been available."

Buffy blushed, and said "It's getting on for nightfall. I think I'd better do another patrol, mop up any stragglers that weren't caught or killed at the house. I'd guess we caught most of them though, from the looks of things the Brides had involved pretty much all the vampires in town."

"Why not stay on for a couple of days," said Sara, "see the sights and take in a couple of shows before you head back."

"I'd love to, but money's still pretty tight."

"Which reminds me...", said Brass.

"What did Dawn break?" asked Buffy resignedly. "I'll pay for it, but you might have to wait for instalments."

"Nothing. She was very helpful."

"And?"

"Firstly, I've been authorised to pay all your expenses for this trip, including travel and any entertainment you might want to enjoy before you leave."

"Uh.. okay, I guess I'd be happy to accept."

"Secondly, this is the third case of supernatural activity we've encountered in a year. It's becoming obvious to us that we need professional help. Your help."

"You want me to join the Las Vegas PD?" asked Buffy incredulously.

"That would be our preference, but I understand that you need to stay near Sunnydale. The best alternative we've thought of is that we should offer you a regular retainer for your advisory services, plus consultants fees and expenses if it should become necessary for you to travel here. Said travel to be entirely voluntary, of course."

"Retainer?" asked Buffy.

"I think our budget can run to three hundred a month for routine advisory services, two hundred a day plus expenses if you travel or have to do anything else on our behalf."

"And this would all be voluntary... no penalty if I can't get away from Sunnydale?"

"Of course not."

"And no publicity?"

"None."

"I guess that in theory I'm supposed to say something noble and heroic and turn you down... but we really need the money. I'd be happy to accept."

"Good. It's taxable income, of course."

"Of course."

"Also retroactive. Let's see, you've been here two days, say four days by the time you get home, your expenses will include travel, dry cleaning, wear and tear on weapons, plus the retainer for this month... Would fifteen hundred cover it?"

"Uh... I guess."

"Good," said Brass, pulling a payment voucher from his pocket. "Just fill in your social security and address details and we'll get a check out to you. Buffy...?"

"Sorry, just in shock here."

"I think that you and Dawn have earned it," commented Grissom.

"Welcome to the team," said Catherine.

"Oh-kay.... I guess I'd better give Dawn the good news. If you hear glass breaking it'll be her squealing. Thanks.. I really don't know what else to say."

"It's been an honour meeting you," said Brass.

* * * * *

"Did anything strike you as odd about that story?" asked Catherine once Buffy had gone.

"Which story?" asked Grissom.

"How she escaped. Convenient that the floor should be broken just where she needed it."

"Not really. I took a look at the cell when we were clearing up, the root is there all right."

"I took a look too. What was the name of the witch Buffy and her friends keep mentioning?"

"You ought to know. Willow, of course."

"I found enough left of that root to identify it. It's Salix Babylonica, the weeping willow."

"So?"

"So the nearest willow tree I could find was in the park, more than a hundred yards away."

"Weird..."

"Magic, I think. That Lorne guy apparently said something was guarding Buffy. One of these days I really want to meet that girl..."

* * * * *

Nobody questioned the forged prisoner transfer documents that took three vampires from their cells to a waiting van with CDC markings the next day. About fifty miles outside Las Vegas, at noon, the van stopped at a scrap yard. The vampires didn't realise that anything was wrong until a magnetic grab picked it up and dropped it into the crusher.

"Bloody nice of the police to keep them for us," commented one of the drivers as they watched dust spurt out of the machine.

"Bloody stupid that they had the chance. That Slayer's too soft on vampires, we saw it with Angel a couple of years ago. Good thing the Watchers have ruthless bastards like us to clear up the mess."

"She killed a god, mate, as far as the Council is concerned that cuts her a lot of slack."

"For now. Let's go home."

* * * * *

Jim Brass went home and spent more than an hour looking out of the window over Las Vegas, as he slowly drank a large Scotch. Tonight the city streets would probably be a little safer, thanks to the Slayer and CSI. It made what he had to do all the harder.

Eventually he picked up the phone and dialled an international number. "This is James Brass, Las Vegas police department. Serial 13539, codeword Tiberius... I need to report to the General or his staff, priority Alpha-One. Yes, I can hold."

Brass poured himself another drink, and absently rubbed the spot where his clothing concealed a faded blue tattoo dating from his teens, the sign of an ancient loyalty that could never be forgotten. Eventually a new voice came to the phone. "General..? Thank you, it's been a long while... Yes... I think I have positive identification... Briefly, I learned today that monks hid a child from someone who could cause insanity. The child is the sister of the Slayer, and a psychic stated that she had an unusual green aura. Putting those facts and last year's events together I think the conclusion is obvious. Dawn Summers is The Key... Yes General, of course... Even with Glory dead, she might fall into other hands. The Key is the Link, the Link must be severed. Such is the will of God..."

**End**


End file.
